Before You
by VSBreeWest
Summary: *New summary* Six years after the war, Harry is living as a muggle-until Draco Malfoy finds him that is. What will Harry do when his past becomes his present and possibly his future? How will the two overcome their new circumstances with the animosity of their past? And eventually, fan the flames of possible love?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: After the war, Harry disappeared from the wizarding world. Aside from a select few, no one knew where he could possibly be until the most unlikely wizard stumbles upon him out on business.

Pairing: Draco/Harry

Rating: M

 _ **Before You**_

 _Chapter One: Exchanging Favors_

It had been several years since Voldemort had fallen. Though the world had been affected greatly by his coming and going, time was slowly healing the wounds his rebirth had created. However, after his falling, the absence of the savior was cause of alarm. Some assumed him dead. Others, they believed he had become lost to never be found again. In the end, it was believed that Harry Potter, the-Boy-Who-Lived, was no more.

It was better that way.

Harry adjusted a few books in their shelving. The early morning sun burst with colorful rays through the window panes of the little old bookshop he now owned in this small town near Sligo, Ireland.

After the war, many of those that knew him knew that Harry wished for nothing but the simple life and went to great lengths to help him escape the Wizarding World. Only a select few knew his whereabouts, but of those were his closest most cherished loved ones.

Here, Harry was just a simple bookshop owner. There were no magic users in town, and he had long since used his magic for anything other than cleaning his bedroom – or the dishes since he despised doing them.

Harry had retained some of his previous appearance, save the glasses and long mangled mess of hair. He kept it short, styled and exposing his scar. Here, his scar was just that – a scar. No one really gave it much mind. His gem-like emerald eyes made him fit well into this world of green. Ireland was well-known for their red or dark brown hair and eclipsing gem-like colored eyes. He hardly seemed noticeable here.

He was still short. Despite his prayers he might gain some height after Hogwarts. It was six years since he had left that world and he was still just barely over five-foot six.

Hogwarts. It had been a memory not long in the making, but he still missed his first home. He missed those that he had left behind. However, he had never prepared for living through the war. When he did, he was suddenly gifted with a freedom he had never known his entire life.

Hermione and the Weasleys went to great lengths to get him away from the fame that was sure to follow and give him his one wish: to be free to live his life.

He could clearly remember the way Molly had smiled at him, eyes brimming clear jewel-like tears.

" _You need to live a life that you want, Harry. This world will be fine without you. Go live the life you want. Be happy."_

Her words echoed through him every morning that he woke up to his freedom. While they had stayed in touch, he hadn't seen anyone in quite some time. However, it was that reality that made him thankful for what he lived every day here. The simple life. The normal life. A life without complication or demand. His life.

"Fine morning, isn't it, Harry?" Dakin called out as he entered the shop with a chime. "Blasted teenagers," he grumbled as he wiped away some mud from his coat.

Dakin was about twenty years his senior, but he looked very young and acted it all the same. Dark auburn locks a horrid mess above his strong face helped to mask his age. Blue eyes the color of the sky and a build Harry was truly envious of also concealed his true age. Standing at six-foot three-inches wrapped in unnatural muscle tone the man was glorious though Harry would never say so out loud. Dakin was unbelievably conceited and didn't need the ego boost.

The morning mist was stuck to bits of his hair and shined gloriously as he walked in and warmed his hands from the cold.

"Morning," he called out as he came to greet the older man. "You look like you were in the pub 'til morning again."

The blue-eyed man smiled wolfishly. "Aye. It was a great night of harrowing tales!"

"Right," Harry returned with a small grin. "Harrowing you say? You mean where you managed not to kill yourself on your way to Scotland?"

"Yeah, that," the man agreed with a small jerk of his head. "Those were great adventures."

"Sure," Harry agreed with a small shake of his head.

Dakin pouted childishly. "They were! I could've died, I tell you."

"Two miles from the city?" Harry retorted with a chuckle. "Doubtful."

Dakin ignored him as he sorted his things near the till and then proceeded to kick up his shoes and grab his usual paper to read.

"Dakin," Harry started but the older man ignored him. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort to berate the older man, he merely began to organize a few more books into the shelves.

The chiming of the door alerted Harry to the customer which was shortly followed by Dakin's low greeting. "Ah, an outsider," Dakin acknowledged which peaked Harry's interest.

As he was behind several bookshelves, he couldn't quite see who had come in. Harry moved to see who this newcomer might be.

"I've come simply to look around during my stay," the deeply silky voice responded sharply. The voice sounded oddly familiar. It was a similar accent to his own so that must be why Dakin thought he was an outsider.

"Well you're free to do so, stranger," Dakin replied petulantly. Harry groaned with frustration. Why he thought Dakin was a good match with the front was beyond him. The older man lacked manners and grace.

Deciding that the stranger should receive the best hospitality his bookshop had to offer, Harry came out from behind the bookcases to greet the guest. However, his greeting got stuck in his throat as the person came into view and nearly had him fleeing.

The tall wizard was recognizable as he still carried the steel-eyed gaze the color of a stormy sea and the arrogance of the rich in his every glance. Now towering over Harry, Draco Malfoy was the embodiment of his late father. He stood, nearly as tall as Dakin and nearly as toned though he appeared rather more delicately muscled than his brutish employee.

He was dressed in a three-piece black suit that only helped to make him stand out rather than mask him. Soft, pale skin probably silky to the touch that joined his equally light, silky hair that came to his chin and was elegantly styled to match his upscale appearance. It was truly an appearance fitting for this rich prat.

It was no doubt his archrival from his years at Hogwarts.

Oh shite.

Harry had no where he could possibly run. Not that he would. He was a Gryffindor mind you, and Malfoy hardly scared him. No. It was the fear of discovery. Surely, Malfoy would jump on the leverage he would gain from knowing Harry's whereabouts, and Harry's simple existence would disappear.

He bit his lip as those blue-gray eyes regarded him at first with interest and then with perplexity. Seems Malfoy wasn't as sharp as he portrayed himself. Then came recognition, and Harry audibly cursed as a result.

"This is where you were hiding then," the taller wizard stated with clear superiority, ignoring the bemusement of the other man in the room. "Marvelous that I would find the great savior of the world hiding in some little bookshop. The Daily Prophet will have a field day should they get ahold of the savior's location and that he is not, in fact, dead as presumed by the masses."

"Harry?" Dakin questioned. He was standing now, his body coiled as if ready to strike at any moment. Clearly, the tone in Malfoy's voice was making him uneasy.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted, assuring Dakin he was fine with a small smile. "I think this conversation is better had in private, don't you?"

Malfoy's eyebrow rose slightly before he turned towards the large man at the till. "Ah. Yes, you are quite correct. Shall we?"

"Dakin," Harry called out to the other man. "Can you watch the shop for a bit? I won't be long."

The older man looked uneasy at the request but nodded all the same. Harry led Malfoy out of the shop and down the road to where his little house stood amongst fields of swaying grass. Malfoy was hardly dressed for the small town. It had made him wonder, but he had bigger worries to attend to now that he led the one person who could destroy all of his happiness into his small home.

Malfoy sat in the small wooden chair, poised and mannered as if years of etiquette would not allow him such a disgrace even in the coziest of settings. It ironically made Harry want to laugh. Years after the war, he lost some of his hatred for this man now sitting unfittingly in his small, lightly decorated home.

It was clear that Malfoy had just as much decision in his upbringing as Harry did and that small understanding made Harry less than hostile towards Malfoy as he handed him a cup of earl gray tea. He noted that Malfoy put only the smallest amount of milk and sugar in it.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, getting straight to the point.

Malfoy seemed affronted by the question but answered all the same: "Not that it is any of your business, Potter, but I had business with some associates in Sligo."

"Why my bookshop though? It's not exactly in town," Harry asked, sipping gingerly at his own tea. He was still rather guarded, but Malfoy had come here, despite knowing he could easily alert the media of Harry. That had to be something, didn't it?

Malfoy watched him, as if gauging whether or not to answer. "I enjoy books, Potter. Your bookstore was spoken of in high regard by the muggles, and I was simply curious. I did find quite the interesting commodity, however. Who would have ever guessed Harry Potter would be living a muggle life?"

"Who cares," Harry replied angrily. "I did what they wanted. They don't need me anymore. Shouldn't it be my decision what I do with my life now?" He fisted his hand against his thigh before releasing it and blowing out a sigh. "Now that you know. What do you plan to do with the information? You're hardly bribable with your fortune."

"Well, I would say that there is little I desire that I might not obtain with my fortune," Malfoy replied with an arrogant smile. Harry cringed physically. Malfoy was still the same old arrogant prat. "However, there is something in which you might do for me. I will keep your whereabouts hidden should you do so."

"And that would be?" Harry was a little worried by the sparking in Malfoy's eyes at his inquiry.

Malfoy folded one hand over his other, regarding Harry with a small smirk. "I require a very rare tome for a potion I am concocting. It is suggested that this rare tome is located here, but I am unable to find it as I have no connections or resources to afford me information."

"You, not having the resources, Malfoy? That is quite the elusive tome you are in search of."

"Indeed," Malfoy replied with a sneer.

Harry regarded the other wizard thoughtfully. "If this is a book in regards to a potion, I hardly think that I will be of any use. No muggle will have any idea of its importance."

"That is where you are mistaken, Potter. This tome I search of has been concealed within a rare muggle book. Its whereabouts are known only by the muggles that have been gifted it through the generations. So, you can understand why you are indeed very useful in such circumstances. I assume that you have been residing here for many years?" Malfoy inclined his head curiously at Harry, eyes taking on a slightly lighter complexion.

It was momentary, but Harry almost found the other wizard attractive with this small gesture. He was luckily able to shake such thoughts away and answer the blonde wizard rather evenly. "Six years, to be exact. I moved here shortly after the war."

"Very good. I assume you are acquainted well with the muggles living here?"

Harry sighed, knowing that this conversation only sealed his fate. "Yes."

"Then should you seek information on this tome I am in need of, our accordance will cease to be on the event that you find its location," Malfoy stated judiciously. "As I am aware that you have little to trust my word on, I will even swear it on an Unbreakable Vow."

Harry was slightly taken aback by this statement. The mere fact that Malfoy was ready to promise on an Unbreakable Vow was comfort enough that his arch-nemesis had grown up a little – some may say matured. Harry would never voice this out loud, but he had gained a smidgeon of respect for the other wizard.

"Unless you desire to have my ruin what little solace you have in this pathetic example of a home here in this unbearable poverish town," Malfoy added with another sneer.

Nope. Still disliked him. Greatly.

Harry sighed and nodded in agreement. He had very little choice in the matter. While having any connection with Malfoy was less than agreeable, he was thankful that there had been some way to sway the arrogant wizard to keep his mouth shut. Granted, it would mean he had to suffer Malfoy's presence until he found what the bloody prat was looking for, but at least he would remain hidden a little longer.

"So what is this book called?"

Malfoy's eyes sparked again. "The Dead Man's Boot."

Harry scoffed lightly before sighing once more. "Very well. I'll see what I can find out about it."

"I would be much obliged," Malfoy replied sarcastically.

When Malfoy made no move to leave, Harry's jaw tightened. "You can leave now, Malfoy."

"Oh, I think I might stay," Malfoy replied coolly.

"Pardon?" Harry's face tightened along with his fists. "Do you not trust that I will?"

"I know you will, Potter. You have no choice in the matter."

"Then?"

"I think I might just want to join your little excursion to do so," Malfoy responded lightly, as if content with the very idea of sharing company with him longer than needed.

"I don't think so," Harry all but bit out.

Malfoy's eyebrow rose at the change in Harry's tone. If looks could kill, Harry's surely would have. However, the arrogant prat sat unfazed by the clear threat in Harry's mannerisms.

"Oh but I do," Malfoy stated, his tone clearly leaving very little room to argue. "I do not trust you, Potter. I do not trust that you will not seek to steal away in the middle of the night in order to find a new place of solace."

"But you just said—"

"I am aware of what I said, Potter," Malfoy interjected sharply. "Since I am unable to put any sort of time constraint on you, I will have to supervise your progress. As this benefits me only to have done in a timely manner, I will aide you however I am capable. However, I do not trust you."

Harry's jaw worked in frustration. "Fine, but you won't be staying here."

"Yes I will," Malfoy responded evenly. "With a little magic, your home will be adequately fixed to harbor my particular tastes."

Harry shot up from his seat and slammed his hands forcefully on the table. "You will **not** change a bloody thing, do you hear me?!" His calm had been destroyed and now he was panting in rage.

Malfoy remained seated, merely gazing at Harry with heightened amusement. "I hardly feel you have any leverage in order to negotiate my terms, Potter."

"You bloody snake," Harry growled hotly. "I may not want to lose what hard earned happiness I have accrued in this life, but I will not play manservant to some arrogant prat hell bent on my misery either. You may think that you have something on me, Malfoy, but be assured, I am plenty powerful enough to make you disappear without a trace and no one be the wiser to it."

Malfoy's lips twitched into a small smirk. "Oh, Potter, I never imagined you had it in you to threaten another's life so easily."

"For you, Malfoy, I'll make an exception," Harry spat angrily though there was a turning in his belly at his own words.

"Very well. I shall leave this uncommonly tiny home as it is," Malfoy stated with obvious disgust. "However, I will be staying here. How you proceed to accommodate me shall be your decision."

Harry groaned and slouched back into his chair. He had managed to land himself in the most uncomfortable situation he had been in since the war. Malfoy in his home for Merlin knows how long. This was surely the most miserable he could contrive to be in the circumstances.

Bloody hell.

"I hardly think this adequate space for bathing, Potter," Malfoy stated in disbelief when Harry showed him where the bathroom was.

Malfoy had demanded the facilities for bathing as he needed to "wash the country poverty from himself" and proceeded to have a look of disgust as Harry led him from the kitchen to the bathroom only a short distance away.

"You wanted to stay here," Harry reminded the tall wizard who dwarfed his already small bathroom. "If you are unsatisfied with what I have to offer, I am sure there is a nice inn we can find for you. Or maybe, you could just, you know, buy some sort of home to do what you will with since you are so rich and all."

"Very funny, Potter."

"I thought so too," Harry said, chuckling despite himself. "You just turn here for hot and this way for cold. If you need a towel, they're under here." Harry showed the clearly disgusted wizard where everything was and how it worked. Since he barely used magic, he showed the other wizard the muggle way to shower or bathe.

"How you managed to live in such a way for several years is beyond me, Potter."

Harry smiled at this. "I guess so." After leaving a clearly confused wizard to figure out the rest for himself, Harry finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He was still angry at the situation he found himself but moaning about it wasn't going to do anything for him. It was hardly the worst situation he had ever been in. He had traveled in worse circumstances. Lived with worse people. Malfoy may be an arrogant prat, but he was not nearly as horrid as the Dursleys had been.

Harry sat in silent contemplation for several long minutes before Malfoy resurfaced from the bathroom, his hair melting over his face to his shoulders and body covered only at the waist covered in small pockets of glistening water. Harry nearly fell from his chair.

The chiseled definition of the blonde wizard's muscle made his mouth nearly water with envy. At least he thought it was envy. He had never felt anything close to what he felt at another's appearance like this. Sure, Harry had known how his eyes strayed more often to men rather than women, but he assumed it was merely out of envy.

However, there was a stirring in his belly at the appearance of the beautifully handsome wizard. The pale flesh and soft-like features hardly took away from the purely masculine quality that Malfoy exerted. It made Harry fidget in his chair and want to turn his eyes away in embarrassment.

This was bloody Malfoy. His enemy for so many years. The reason he was in this bloody predicament. He couldn't be feeling _desire_ for this bloody prat. Harry felt the heat suffusing his cheeks as he turned away and cleared his throat.

"Shouldn't you get dressed?" he stated breathlessly.

Malfoy chuckled darkly. "And miss an opportunity to see the savior of the world blush so prettily? I think not."

Harry growled in frustration. So it would seem Malfoy was sharp when he needed to be. This was not any sort of comfort to Harry who was now working hard to appear unaffected by the statement and return the cool gaze of the other wizard. However, the pure beauty of Malfoy's body ensnared him once more speechless.

"I never imagined the-Boy-Who-Lived was a poof," Malfoy added with amusement in his tone, causing Harry's insides to boil with rage.

Harry regained his composure and set his angry gaze on the other wizard. "Shut up, Malfoy," he barked before standing and tossing out a blanket and pillow from one of the cabinets. "You can sleep on the couch since I doubt either the sofa or the bed will suit your particular tastes. Feel free to transform it to your liking." Harry slipped past the taller wizard and headed to his bedroom, hoping to get rid of half-naked images of Malfoy as he did so.

He closed his door roughly before throwing himself onto the bed.

The only solution was to find out where this book Malfoy needed was. And soon. The sooner he found it, the sooner he could get rid of Malfoy and all these confusing emotions swirling inside him.

He disliked Malfoy. But why was there this heat in his chest every time those cool eyes regarded him?

"Potter," a voice called beyond the void of his dream world.

Harry turned over, curling further into the warmth of his bed before a frustrated sigh followed by the dipping of his bed jerked him out of his half-awake state.

"Potter," the voice said again before he was turned over and forced to gaze at the wizard he wished he could never see again.

"What do you want Malfoy?" he asked in a gruff voice. "I suppose the couch is not to your liking?" Harry added contemptuously.

"Indeed," the other wizard stated before imposing himself onto the bed.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Harry growled as Malfoy proceeded to lay down beside him.

His heart started in his chest, and he was finding it increasingly harder to breathe. Malfoy wasn't wearing a shirt. Harry was once more face-to-face with the beautifully defined pectorals and ribbed abdominal muscles of his nemesis against his will.

"I refuse to sleep on that sad excuse of a sofa, Potter."

"Fine," Harry growled as he sat up and threw the comforter from himself. "I'll go sleep on the sofa."

Before he could get all the way out of the bed, an arm encircled his waist and jerked him back into the bed. His backside now met the hard and soft of Malfoy's body eliciting a short gasp of surprise from his lips and a twitch below his belly.

"Stay," a voice whispered into his ear huskily. "Stay and keep me warm, Potter."

Harry groaned as hips jerked against his backside and the hard slide of the other wizard's prick pressed between his arse cheeks. Oh Merlin. Harry panted against the sudden warm coiling in his lower abdomen. His own prick jerked inside the confines of his pajama trousers.

"Feel that do you, Potter? Have you ever had your arse taken by another wizard?" Malfoy questioned him hotly as another thrust against his backside nearly sent him reeling backwards with desire.

Harry grasped the bedsheets tightly to keep himself rooted to reality. At least he hoped he could stay rooted with the action, but his body was starting to react on its own, responding to Malfoy almost wantonly.

"I could have you. Right here, Potter. Right now," Malfoy whispered huskily, thrusting a bit more persistently into Harry's backside. "I could take your virgin arse. Claim it unlike any other has before me. I could make you beg for it. Need it. Desire nothing more than for me to sheathe myself within you." Malfoy continued, causing Harry's body to continue to respond in less than desirable ways to the promise in the blonde wizard's words.

Harry's mouth was gaping, panting with a desperation to fight against his urge to have Malfoy do just that. Take him. Break him. Pleasure him in a way he could never imagine.

"Beg me for it, Potter," the other wizard urged, hands touching over Harry's chest, kneading the flesh through the thin material of his pajama top. "Beg me."

"Please," Harry moaned.

Harry jerked upwards, lower body soiled after the dream – or was it a nightmare – that he never knew he was even capable of having. He had had dreams before. Never had they been so real. Never had he felt so dirty afterwards. Harry rubbed his face with his hands, hoping to rid his mind of the feelings and images.

He had just had his first wet dream in years. Of bloody Malfoy.

Fuck.

TBC…

This is my first Draco/Harry in a while. Hoping it appeals to some of you. I have never been able to write Harry as a top so if you guys are looking for a Draco on bottom, you should look elsewhere. I really thrive on reviews and will update as quickly as possible. Hope to hear what you all think of it!


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: Lies and Friendship_

"You expect me to voluntarily eat this, Potter?" Malfoy emphasized the word 'this' with a pointed finger. "Who makes such horrid plates of food?"

Harry groaned for the second time that morning. "I made it, Malfoy. If you're going to complain about it, you can eat out. Or starve. Whatever suits your particular fancy this fine morning."

Malfoy scowled with insult before poking the food curiously. He hesitated before eating a small bit of the eggs and country potato mash. Harry almost smiled in triumph when a small spark of pleasure surfaced in the blue-gray eyes. He knew he could make a delicious breakfast hash. He was proud of it enough to cook it for this hard-to-please arrogant arsehole. Thankfully, it seemed he had been correct to assume it was worth a shot.

"I guess it will suffice for the moment," Malfoy stated evenly before elegantly finishing his plate.

Harry shook his head. He was starting to figure Malfoy out a bit. After spending most of yesterday and this morning observing the taller wizard, he found that Malfoy wasn't as complicated as he wanted others to believe he was.

A loud banging at the door startled Harry and his companion out of their silent regard. Harry stood before opening the door to his towering employee.

"Closed up shop for you yesterday," the older man stated angrily. "Couldn't even bother with a call, could you?"

Harry closed his eyes in guilt. "Sorry, Dakin. You can have today off as an apology."

Dakin ignored him and invited himself in before glaring at Malfoy who sat at the table as if the man didn't exist in the room. "I bet this bloody bastard was to blame," he barked out before seating himself across from Malfoy. "Don't think I won't kick your snotty little arse if you so much as put a hand on Harry."

"Who is this mountain troll of a man, Potter?" Malfoy inquired as if Dakin hadn't been speaking to him.

Dakin's face was becoming redder by the minute. Harry immediately corrected Malfoy with a glare. "This is Dakin McClain. He works at my bookshop and is one of few wizards in this area."

"Oh," Malfoy offered with a disinterested tone. "How charming. You make a fine couple."

Dakin's eyes darkened impossibly before he crossed his booted feet and regarded the wizard with amusement. "Ah. I see. Yes, Harry is quite the little minx in the bedroom. So if you understand it, don't think you can impose on my _boyfriend._ "

Malfoy's mouth nearly dropped at the statement. Harry was tempted to palm himself in the forehead as Dakin sat arrogantly amused at the other wizard's reaction. Bloody Dakin.

"So you really are a poof, Potter?" Malfoy turned towards him with disbelieving stare. "And with _this_ of all things."

"This?" Dakin barked with the crossing of his arms. "I am quite pleasing in the bedroom. Although, I would never humor such a prissy piece of meat as yourself even if I was out right sloshed."

"That's enough," Harry cut in angrily. "Dakin, I will talk with you later. However, I think it's best if you leave now."

"Why do I have to leave?" Dakin questioned angrily. "Why does prissy boy get to stay?!"

Malfoy's lips tightened with contempt. "Run along you unintelligible brute."

"I am assisting him with something," Harry answered vaguely.

Dakin was aware of who Harry was. Had helped a time or two to keep that fact hidden where they lived, but Harry refused to involve him with the blackmail he now found himself in.

Dakin had assumed a sort of older brother persona over the years. He was very protective of Harry – though it was very evident that Harry could take care of himself. Even so, Dakin was never swayed away so easily if Harry was clearly uncomfortable. So, for the sake of not involving Dakin, Harry plastered a well-practiced smile on his face and regarded the older man.

"He's a friend of mine," Harry started. The small utterance of rebuttal from Malfoy was quickly cut off as Harry continued without hesitation. "He needed my help finding a book. Despite his clear lack of manners, he really is a nice bloke. He'll be staying for a little while until I can find out information on the whereabouts." He was able to keep the disgust at his own words from his face but with great effort.

It was mostly the truth, though the state of their relationship was false.

Dakin looked less than convinced but nodded anyway. "Then I'll help too," he started with a look of pure hatred at Malfoy who looked rather perplexed by Harry's previous statement. "I would rather his stay be short and sweet. What's the book called?"

"The Dead Man's Boot," Harry answered, slightly relieved he had calmed his older friend down so quickly. Dakin was quick to start and hard to slow. Thankfully, today he seemed rather willing to cool down.

"Got it," the older man replied, standing with another pointed glare before coming to stand in front of Harry.

When Harry felt the soft brush of lips to his forehead, he was suddenly aware of what just transpired. Dakin had kissed him. Albeit on the forehead, but the bloody bastard had actually kissed him in front of Malfoy!

"Goodbye sweetums," Dakin said with a grin as Harry looked at the other wizard as if he had grown another head. "I'll check on you soon." This statement was said towards Malfoy before Dakin left just as loudly as he had come.

Harry heard the silky baritone as soon as the door shut musing arrogantly behind him. "While I may have no qualms with homosexuality, Potter, I am undoubtedly against interspecies dating of any sort."

Harry sighed with frustration before turning towards Malfoy who sat with a small amused grin on his face. However, the wizard's eyes looked a shade darker, but Harry hardly cared why. "We don't have that kind of relationship, Malfoy. And stop it with the troll bit. If you expect my help in finding your precious book, you'll leave Dakin out of this."

"If memory serves, Potter, you are not helping me but under duress to assist should you hope to keep your secret a secret," Malfoy responded conceitedly. "As long as that mountain troll is kept away from me, I could care little for how you find your information. Be it troll or muggle."

Harry would've have sighed, but he was running late. Instead, he dashed off to quickly dress for the day and head to the shop to open. Malfoy grumbled behind them as they went.

"Must we walk like some sort of muggle everywhere, Potter?"

"If you forgot, I am a muggle here." Malfoy scoffed at this, but Harry ignored me. "Besides, it's beautiful in the morning."

"Yes, a beauty that is accompanied heavily by the stench of manure, Potter," Malfoy replied with a look of revulsion. "Do you not own any sort of motor vehicle?"

"Yes," Harry said simply as he walked ahead.

He kept his hands to his pockets to stave off the cold air circling around them in the foggy morning. Mist blasted his already reddening face, but Harry enjoyed these simple mornings.

A couple of older men walking on the other side of the path waved energetically at Harry before continuing their conversation with one another. Harry smiled at the simplicity that life here afforded him.

Malfoy was brushing away the water from his suit before grumbling once more about poverty. Harry couldn't help the smile. It must be the first time Malfoy was forced to live in any sort of way that didn't keep the elements far from affecting him. At least not where it could be avoided.

When they reached the shop, it was already open, and Dakin was waiting for them with a smug grin. "Goes everywhere with you, does he?"

Harry could feel the prickling of Malfoy beside him. Hoping to keep their arguments at a minimum, he questioned the older man. "I thought I gave you the day off."

"I had this sudden urge to work."

"Sudden indeed," Malfoy started beside him before Harry interjected.

"I'm quite capable of taking care of it today," Harry said roughly. "You go on, Dakin. I'll come by your flat later."

Dakin and Malfoy were caught in some sort of glaring match which gave Harry this uncontrollable urge to roll his eyes in response, but instead he added again. "Go on home, Dakin. I'm sorted for today."

"I don't think you are," Dakin responded childishly. "I don't trust this prissy boy."

"Well I do," Harry stated clearly, causing Malfoy's head to jerk towards him. "Mal—Draco, may be many things but a liar isn't one of them. I can handle it, okay?"

Dakin stood up, his body taking up a great deal of space as it rounded the desk where the till was and came forward. Malfoy's body had straightened, fully extending his height as well as his arrogance with the movement. They were eye-to-eye for a moment before Dakin pressed a friendly hand to Harry's shoulder.

"Come by tonight then. If anything happens, call me," Dakin ordered with a small look of reproach. Obviously, the older man wasn't happy, but Harry refused to be caught between the two of them the entire day. "I may not use magic much anymore, prissy boy, but for you I would be willing to should you get any ideas about Harry here."

"You would be quite dramatically outmatched, but I will strive not to _get any ideas_ about your precious little lover."

Dakin's faced darkened momentarily, worrying Harry for a moment, before the usual smug grin replaced it. "Whatever you say, prissy boy."

Harry groaned with relief before setting the till straight and tossing Malfoy a book. "Read that and be silent. I won't forgive you if you scare away any business."

Malfoy regarded the book with a sneer. "This is a muggle-written book, Potter."

"And you might find you like it," Harry stated coolly as he sorted through a few books at the register. "Or are you scared you might not understand some muggle-written novel?"

Malfoy scoffed contemptuously. "Unlike yourself, I am highly intelligent and capable of comprehending any material be it wizard or muggle."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem," Harry said with a secret smile as he turned away from Malfoy and watched the world around him move at a slow pace.

Malfoy said nothing more before the soft sounds of paper scraping against paper filled his ears. Harry crossed his arms and relaxed into his chair.

Malfoy had been rather engrossed in the novel Harry had tossed him most of the day. Only complaining once when he was hungry and another when he was in need of tea. Harry had obliged the other, feeling like some sort of mother obliging their child throwing a tantrum.

Even despite their current reason for being together, Harry found he couldn't quite dislike Malfoy the more time they spent together. His arrogance and disregard for others was still very frustrating to Harry, but he was starting to understand the blonde wizard. Behind his words, there was something of a curiosity that Harry recognized similar to his own.

Every time he acted as though he would rather being doing something else, talking to someone different, his actions never truly lined up. He responded to his curiosities despite the joining of complaints about how muggle it was or how utterly poverish it seemed.

Harry was finding that it was somewhat humorous to him. Malfoy may act high and mighty, but maybe there was another just below the surface that craved to know things. Discover things. Be someone that he was not.

Harry could understand that himself. All those years, locked within a persona of strength and courage, never allowed to break it, crumble beneath pressure or become weak. It was all very exhausting. Here, he could be Harry. He didn't have to be courageous. Or save a world. Or even smile if he didn't want to. Here, he could be someone that was capable of faults and dislikes. Somewhat not all entirely perfect like a savior would have to be. Someone flawed and human. Someone happy.

Maybe Malfoy craved what he had. Maybe that was the reason that despite his complaining, he stayed.

Maybe…just maybe, Malfoy wanted to be different.

"That's it?!" Malfoy cried as he tossed the book. "How could they possibly end such a story with an uncertainty as wide as an ocean?!" The wizard growled with impatience before standing. "I knew that nothing good would result of reading a muggle-written novel!"

Harry smiled to himself before picking up the second book in the series and offering it to the raging wizard. "Here's the second book in the series," he stated with a smug smile. "You know, in case you want to know what happens after that."

Malfoy's face, which had gone somewhat red with anger, regarded him with open mortification. "A second book?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a smile. "Muggles like to write series of books. This one is a trilogy which means there is three in the series."

"Oh," Malfoy stated with the clearing of his throat before snatching the book out of Harry's hands. "As I have nothing better to do with my time, I suppose I could read the next one."

"Uh-huh," Harry said with a small giggle as Malfoy resituated himself into the chair before quickly opening the book and reading once more.

It sort of reminded Harry of a child. Or maybe even a teenager where they said one thing but meant another. Guess Malfoy hadn't matured much from Hogwarts despite his poised appearance and mannerisms.

As it neared his usual closing time, Harry began his normal closing routine, minding little of the curious glances that Malfoy was giving him, or even that the activity had piqued his interest enough to take him away from his novel which he was nearly finished with.

The man had an ability to read rapidly it would seem. Harry liked to leisurely take in each novel, taking great care to comprehend each and every detail. He would even reread over some pages as not to miss a singular detail in their design. It was this leisure reading that had first afforded him the bookshop.

When he had first moved to the small town, he kept mainly to himself as not to expose his identity. Fortunately, out in Ireland, there were very few wizards that frequented these parts and most that did knew little of what had occurred just months before he had come.

However, his one small piece of solace during that time was this bookstore and its owner. He spent two years coming to have idle conversation with the owner whom knew very little about the wizarding world except that his son was born a wizard.

Peter McCain had been his first friend. Had even assumed a fatherly-like demeanor towards Harry and eventually introduced him to Dakin McCain who was as he put it his "deadbeat wizard son with no aspirations in life and an inability to take care of himself."

Two years ago, Peter McCain passed away in his sleep, willing his shop to Harry and asking that Harry keep an eye on his reject son. During the last six years, Harry had become a part of the McCain family much like he had with the Weasleys. Dakin may have his faults, but he treated him like family and continued to help him with the shop to this day.

Harry felt a little emotional as he thought about the late Peter McCain, finally turning the sign to end his closing duties. "Are you ready?" he asked the other wizard who had all but forgotten his book.

"Yes," Malfoy nodded before setting his book aside.

Harry pointed at the discarded book. "You can take that with you," he stated as he grabbed the final book in the series. "This is the third book. We can take it with us as well."

"There is little else to do, I suppose," Malfoy stated nonchalantly as he accepted the final novel and sized them down to fit into his pockets.

After they reached home, Harry led Malfoy inside before grabbing his car keys and once more heading to the door. "I'll be back later. Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone. I should have some left over Shepard's Pie in the fridge. You just warm it in the microwave for a minute or two."

"I shall come with you," Malfoy started as he began to once more put on his coat. "Besides, I do not _warm_ my food, Potter. I will only consume freshly made meals."

"Then you can starve. And no, you will stay here," Harry said with a stern glare. "I will come back. At least trust that much. I don't need you and Dakin having it out while I'm there."

"But—"

"No. I will go alone, and you will stay here. I'll be back soon," Harry said, leaving and shutting the door behind him as to put an end to the conversation. To be safe, he put up a few locking charms and barriers, hoping that their strength wouldn't be broken by Malfoy. It had been a long time since he performed such spells but they were necessary.

"Harry!" Dakin greet with a smile that only grew wider when he noticed Harry had come alone. "Come in."

"Your place is as messy as ever," Harry said with a gentle smile as he navigated through the maze of filth.

Dakin was just as capable of magic as he was, but the older wizard seemed less inclined to use it. Harry never knew the real reason that Dakin retained an entirely magic-free lifestyle, but he didn't judge it.

Over the years, it was evident that Dakin liked to live freely and without constraint. He was prone to random adventures to countries that he knew little about with very little planned beforehand. He was also capable of large purchases that often led to ruin. He dated random women that would come and go, sometimes a few at a time. Even so, Dakin was strongly loyal to those he cared about and surprisingly passionate about his friendship with Harry.

So despite the coming and going, Dakin had remained a constant over the years.

"Go ahead and take a seat," the other wizard said with a small grin before pulling a couple of beers from the refrigerator that sat close to where the living room should be. "If you can, that is," Dakin added with a small eyebrow waggle.

"I don't even know where to begin or how you manage to entertain women here," Harry started with a small sigh before brushing away some of the mess and managing a seat on a slightly soiled cushion. He would rather not contemplate how it had gotten to such a state. "So I wanted to talk to you," Harry started, but the other wizard handed him an open beer can and clinked the aluminum together.

Taking a big gulp of beer, probably half the can, Dakin sighed with happiness as he regarded Harry curiously. "About prissy boy?"

"Draco," Harry corrected. "And yes. He'll be here for a little while, so I want you two to get along…if only for my sake."

"I don't like him," Dakin stated clearly. "You might think the two of you are mates, but he doesn't treat you that way. Besides," Dakin stated with another gulp of his beer, "the way he looks at you isn't the way a friend would."

Harry was perplexed out of his speech momentarily by the statement. "What do you mean?"

"Just trust me, Harry. He's got ulterior motives," Dakin replied seriously.

 _You don't know the half of it,_ Harry thought.

Although Harry felt guilty for lying to his large friend, he didn't want to involve him any further with Malfoy. Once they found this book Malfoy was looking for, he would be rid of the tall prat.

However, that thought brought about a tightening in his stomach and sharp pain to his chest. Rubbing the offended area, Harry watched as Dakin finished the rest of his beer and retrieved another.

"Why is he staying with you anyway?" Dakin questioned. "Isn't there an inn, or bed and breakfast he can impose on that would be more to his liking?"

"We aren't sure how long it would take, so I told him not to waste the money." The lies were growing. Harry wanted to bite his lip in shame.

"Prissy boy hardly looks like he has a lack of money," Dakin recalled with a disdain. "Surely he could afford a few nights at an inn and let you have your home to yourself."

"It's just easier to have him stay," Harry added with a soft sigh.

It was too bad that Dakin was intelligent enough to conclude so much. A lot of it wouldn't make much sense to an outsider. Shouldn't make sense. Harry was being blackmailed and the tall prat had negotiated his stay into it.

"Stay the night," Dakin pleaded after he finished another beer. "You haven't stayed over in a while. We can watch zombie movies and have nightmares together."

Harry chuckled softly before running a hand nervously through his hair. "I promised I would be home tonight."

"Oh who cares about that prissy boy," Dakin growled as he came to sit beside Harry, throwing a large and heavily muscled arm around him. "Stay with me tonight. I promise I'll explain it to prissy boy tomorrow."

Harry crippled slightly under his friend's weight, both physically and mentally, before recovering. "No, some other time, Dakin. I don't break my promises like some of us. Also, this place is filthy, and I hardly believe you can find any of those zombie movies in this mess."

"Just wave your magic wand, godmother, and the mess will be gone," Dakin said with a high-pitched sweet voice before grinning mischievously at Harry.

"It's a wonder why you never pursued acting with such skills as those."

Dakin tousled Harry's already messy locks. "You little brat."

"That's hardly insulting coming from you," Harry pointed out, fighting off the other wizard's hand.

Dakin poked relentlessly at his side, causing him to desperately try to escape. "I can hardly understand how this little brat became my boss of all things."

Dakin mused as he continued his assault. Harry fought off the touch and managed to escape the other wizard finally.

"If you father had left that bookshop to you it would have no doubt failed to survive this long," Harry stated with a small smirk.

"You injure me," Dakin said in mock insult.

Harry sighed with a small smile before looking over at the time. "It's probably time for me to head back. I would really appreciate you attempting to be courteous to Draco. I'm not telling you to be his friend, but at least refrain from calling him prissy boy."

Dakin crossed his arms contemplatively over his chest. "And what do I get in return?"

"I'll make those walnut brownies you like," Harry returned with a grin.

Dakin's eyes lit up. "You mean the ones with that what-do-you-call-it glaze over the top and double chocolate chip filled goodness?" The man was practically drooling.

"Yes, those."

"Deal," the other wizard asserted with a nod. Easily won over as always.

Harry pointed at the older man sternly. "That means you aren't allowed to call him names anymore. You will also have to appear…nice."

Dakin's face dropped with disgust. "Oh, come on."

"No double chocolate chip brownies if you aren't."

Dakin bit his lip, jaw tightening slightly before he nodded again. "Fine."

"See you tomorrow then," Harry said as he waved goodbye and left.

When he came home, Malfoy looked less than welcoming. The taller wizard sat in a chair near the fire hearth, book situated into one hand and small cup of tea in another. It seemed that Malfoy had at least managed tea while he was gone.

"You are late, Potter."

Harry gave the other wizard a small look of reproach. "I never said when I'd be home. Did you eat?" he asked as a way of derailing some of the anger boiling in the blonde wizard's eyes.

"I cannot contrive that contraption you refer to as a microwave. It was simply unmanageable."

"So no then," Harry concluded with an amused grin.

Malfoy didn't answer, merely huffed in frustration as he once more directed his eyes to his book.

"I'll make a little something," Harry offered before heading to the kitchen. "Tomorrow is a holiday, so the bookshop will be closed. I figured we could go to town to see what we can manage to find out about this book you're seeking."

"How thoughtful of you," Malfoy replied from beyond. Harry could hear the sarcasm dripping from every word but ignored it all the same. "Do you intend to have that mountain troll join us?"

"Yeah," Harry said, knowing it wasn't what the blonde wizard wanted to hear. "He'll meet us in town. I'll call him in the morning."

"On that infernal device you refer to as a mobile phone?"

Harry chuckled softly as he prepared the meal. "Yes. It is actually quite useful. You can take it anywhere with you. I am surprised such a device isn't used in the wizarding world."

"Do you speak with that mountain troll frequently?" he heard the other questioned almost hesitantly.

Harry mused over his answer. It seemed a little off to have Malfoy inquiring after his relationship with Dakin, and he had made it clear that they were not, in fact, dating, but it would seem that Malfoy had his doubts.

"We're not like that," Harry stated clearly. "Not in the way you think. His father owned the bookshop and willed it to me when he passed away. Dakin and I have just been very close since his father introduced us. He's kind of like an older brother I never had."

"So the feeling towards him is…familial?"

"I guess you could say that," Harry responded thoughtfully. "Not that it's any of your business."

"I was merely curious, Potter. No need to get your knickers in a twist about it."

It was the first time he had heard Malfoy joke since he had gotten here. Harry had half wondered if Malfoy was capable of jesting anymore. Sure, he had been on the receiving end of some rather unkind jokes at his expense from Malfoy, but this was different. This was similar to a joke one friend would say to another.

"Believe me, Malfoy, you couldn't possibly get my knickers in a twist with those questions. I've had a lot worse assumptions about my sexual orientation or raising over the years. I doubt there is anything you could say that has not already been said to me."

"Are you attracted to wizards then?"

The question jolted Harry out of his plating the food. It wasn't something that he expected Malfoy to ask or even to want to know.

In jest, Harry asked: "Are you?"

There was a short period of silence. Harry had started to believe that Malfoy was intentionally ignoring him, so he had resume plating the food. However, the other voice carried clearly into the room as he replied: "Yes, I am."

TBC…

Oh whoa, Drake…oh no you didn'!

Well I decided to post another chapter for those of you scared I wasn't continuing. I am quite happy with the way this story is unfolding. Hopefully you are satisfied as well. I appreciated those of you that reviewed and hope that you continued to read and review. Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three: Undeclared Rivalry_

Harry laid in his bed considering how he felt about the night that he discovered something unbelievable about the heir to the Malfoy fortune.

Gay. Poof. Homosexual tendencies – or in this case, homosexual entireties.

" _What?" Harry nearly lost his footing at the proclamation._

 _He barely rounded the kitchen with the food precariously held in his hands as he battled the brewing emotion in his chest. It had to be some sort of joke. Maybe as a result of all the poof talk over the past couple days involving Harry and Dakin, perhaps?_

 _Yes. Malfoy must be joking._

" _I see no need to repeat myself, Potter."_

 _Not a joke then._

 _Harry felt the slight tremble in his hands as he set the plates of food down. He wanted to appear nonchalant. Unaffected by the idea that Malfoy could harbor those tendencies. It just seemed unrealistic that Malfoy would come out and say it. Just like that. To Harry of all people._

 _Harry went through the motions of preparing the table so they could eat, but his brain was doing somersaults to comprehend the purely outlandish statement that Malfoy was gay. A poof. Batting for the same team._

 _Malfoy sat down at the table as if the conversation hadn't veered in an entirely uncomfortable direction. He had also chosen not to elaborate. Or pry for that matter._

 _Maybe Malfoy felt they shared that in common and was content to share the information so openly. So bluntly that Harry nearly felt unhinged with it._

 _Harry took a seat, finding that his eyes could no longer stray from the other. He contemplated the blunt statement once more before asking: "How long?"_

" _All of my life, Potter."_

" _Then Pansy…"_

 _Malfoy's lip twitched before raising into a small smirk. "A mere rumor. I had to keep up appearances, Potter. Unlike yourself, I have a good name to keep." Malfoy began to eat without hesitation unlike the day prior, and it made Harry's chest inflame just slightly._

" _And now? Why tell me? Aren't you afraid I would use the information against you considering our current_ arrangement _?" Harry posed curiously._

" _Should I be?"_

 _Harry nibbled his bottom lip. "No."_

" _Then, there you have it, Potter. Besides, I doubt there is anyone you are willing to ruin your current living arrangements just to proclaim that you know I am attracted to wizards. Seems hardly worth the effort for someone that has spent six years living as a muggle to shy away from the world he came from, do you not think?"_

 _Harry hated to admit it – because this was Malfoy – but the blonde wizard had a point. Even if he was inclined to tell anyone, who would he tell of any importance to Malfoy? No one. Besides, Harry wasn't the vengeful sort. He didn't seek to humiliate others the way that Malfoy did._

 _Instead of agreeing, Harry simply focused on his food, and the rest of dinner was spent in silent pondering._

Currently, he was pondering it again. Over and over. Churning the information and images of Malfoy with…other wizards. There was another sharp pain to his chest. Harry rubbed it absently.

Harry had never pondered his sexuality. Mostly because after his break up from Ginny, he felt no one deserved a life connected to him as the savior of the world. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, discard most of his relationships to live this life.

Still, Harry had never truly understood this subtle attraction to other wizards' physique and masculinity. He had attributed his fascinations with simple jealousy that his own physique was so small.

Now that he thought about it, he had been slightly enamored with the blonde wizard since he had arrived. None of it had made sense to him since he was supposed to hate the prat. Instead, he felt this heat in his chest and fluttering in his stomach every time the other was near.

And that dream. Harry trembled at the memory. It was so vivid. It made him want to touch himself; and not just for completion, but to feel pleasure through the images.

His hand strayed, but he was able to restrain it. The very idea of masturbating with Malfoy in the other room was enough to harden him almost completely in his trousers. The fear of discovery was something he hadn't worried about since Hogwarts, save the few morning woods he sported after a night with Dakin.

Harry bit his lower lip as he battled the urge to touch himself. If he kept quiet, he could easily do this without Malfoy knowing. He was throbbing so horribly now with the memories of what it felt like to have Malfoy rutting against him in his dream. Feeling him. Touching him. Pleasuring him.

Harry groaned softly, failing to keep his hand from it any longer. He touched tentatively at first, and then a bit harder. His hand worked under his trousers, pulling and pleasuring himself as he always did. The difference – the reason it felt exceptionally more pleasurable – was the images of Malfoy hovering over him, touching and tasting him. It was enough to send him right into orgasm after only minutes of touching.

He wasn't able to stifle the gasp of ecstasy as he came in long, powerful waves. With his hips locked, he soiled both his trousers and top as he rode out his orgasm. When it finally finished, guilt pitted. Harry discarded his soiled clothes.

He had just wanked to images of Malfoy. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?!

Deciding he wouldn't flirt with discovery by taking a shower, Harry cast a simple cleaning charm and promised to shower in the morning.

Utterly disgusted with himself, Harry attempted to close his mind off to anymore thoughts about a certain blonde wizard.

They headed into Sligo after a ring to Dakin to meet up with them. Harry had been rather awkward all morning after a quick, cold shower and equally cold breakfast.

Malfoy seemed his usual self, complaining about the weather and lack of heat throughout the night despite casting a few warming charms. Harry was barely listening though. His mind had already strayed a time or two despite his every effort to focus on the task at hand.

He drove the winding back streets towards Sligo, pausing only when a particularly frantic driver decided to take up most of the roadway. Malfoy seemed enamored with the buttons in the car, touching them and inspecting their functions.

"Stop touching those," Harry said as he batted Malfoy's hand away. "Have you never been in a car before?"

"No," came Malfoy's simple, curt answer.

"Really?" Harry inquired, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to send the other wizard a look of surprise.

Malfoy preened his nails. "I am a pureblood, Potter. We do not associate with muggles for any reason."

Harry sighed softly before returning his gaze to the road. It had started to rain shortly before, and now he was losing much of his visibility. "I know it's how you were raised, but you can be a right bastard most of the time.

"Muggles are resourceful despite having no magic to aide them. I know there is a general consensus that they are weak and incapable of protecting themselves, but they are actually rather capable and adept in the world around them."

Malfoy hummed with indifference, but Harry could see the other wizard's jaw working which he now recognized as Malfoy withholding his interest on purpose. Harry smiled.

They managed to arrive in Sligo safely despite the increasing storm and met with Dakin at pub in town. Malfoy looked on with disdain as they entered the pub and were greeted by many of the townspeople that Harry knew.

"Harry! Been a while since I've seen you at the pub," the large man with a graying beard behind the counter called out. "Who's this?" he asked, referring to Malfoy who stood rather out of place with his pale blonde hair and pristine appearance among men that merely threw on a shirt and coat to start drinking in the morning.

"This is Draco Malfoy," Harry introduced with a smile. "He's – er – a friend of mine from London."

The large man, Patrick O'Flannigan, current owner of O'Flannigan pub, nodded smiling in his usual way to greet Malfoy. Since Malfoy wasn't completely devoid of manners to muggles, he returned the greeting with the slightest of bows.

"Proper, isn't he?" the old man laughed. "Well, have a seat, lad. I'll get your usual. On the house since it's been a while." Patrick worked his magic, easily throwing the cocktail together with graceful movements before setting it in front of Harry. "What will your friend have?"

"A glass of merlot –"

"He'll have a red wine. Whatever you've got, Pat," Harry cut in, smiling as Malfoy sneered a little at his side. Bending towards the seething man, Harry whispered, "They don't really carry the sort of wine you're use to here."

"I had presumed as much, Potter," Malfoy replied distastefully.

Dakin finished his conversation with a few men, their loud voices carry a jolly tune as he headed over towards them. He was fitted into his usual pair of denims, but today chose to where a fitted shirt with his favorite Irish band on it with a black biker's jacket adorned with silver buckles and chains.

You would never know that Dakin was nearly forty-two years old by the way he dressed and looked. He hardly looked thirty, and that was made clear by the younger women ogling him from the far corner of the room. Dakin seemed to draw female attention wherever they were.

"Hiya Harry," Dakin greeted with a wide smile as he threw a heavy arm around Harry. "And top of the morning to you, Mister Draco," Dakin added with a toothy-grin. Harry sighed deeply, knowing that was probably the best he was going to get from Dakin.

Malfoy, for the most part, ignored the other man. He was holding his wine glass expertly in his hand, acting as though he was in no way associated with them.

"I see you've started drinking early," Harry started with a small glance of reprove. He waved as Thomas McClain waved him down cheerily. "You brought your cousin with you?"

"Thomas might know where to find this book you're looking for," Dakin stated with elevated pride. "Thomas says he knows a bloke who knows a bloke that might be related to the family with a book like it." The older wizard puffed out his chest boastfully.

Well it was a start. "Then, I guess we need to talk to this bloke. Can Thomas ring him to get information?"

"Yeah, no problem," Dakin responded with a tousle of Harry's tresses before heading back over to Thomas.

Malfoy nursed his drink. "Shall we leave then?"

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised.

Malfoy sighed in exasperation. "There is nothing more for us to find especially with the weather."

Harry nearly laughed at this. "Mal—er—Draco, the weather is always like this. If you think a little rain is going to stop me, then you have another thing coming."

"I beg your pardon?"

Harry nearly groaned in frustration. "Look, we've hardly found anything out. This is a start, but I want to see if there is anything else I might be able to find."

"Must we?" Malfoy complained.

Harry was momentarily stupid as he watched the subtle hue of blue mix with gray in the wizard's eyes. He shook away his passing fascination and answered: "Yes, we just got here. Why are you already complaining? I thought you needed this book in a timely manner?"

Malfoy seemed to be contemplating his next response. "I simply wish to avoid any further company with the mountain troll."

"Worried you might come to like him?" Harry teased.

Malfoy looked genuinely insulted by this. "Unlikely, Potter. I do not associate with trolls."

"Or muggles."

Malfoy returned with a sneer before sipping at his glass. Well, he was going to be no help at all. Harry decided to do what he could and broke into conversation with several of the elderly men lining the pub. Many of them had lived there all their lives, so they would know a thing or two about a book passed through the generations.

As evening neared, Harry had found out a bit more information about the book Malfoy sought. It was originally passed along the McDermott family, but in the last century, the book had made its way into the hands of the McEvoy family – or so most thought. The information was unfortunately not very well known. While many believed that the McEvoy family possessed it now, it was theorized that one of the members may have pawned off the book to pay gambling and drinking debts.

Harry led Malfoy back to the car after they had exhausted their search. The connection Thomas had turned out to be related to another title. "The Dead Man's Boot" was originally _written_ – its true creation was to conceal a very rare potion that Malfoy refused to discuss – in Norway and had traveled to the hands of an Irish family, The McDermotts. Thomas had found a book written originally in Ireland, passed through the generations of the family his friend of a friend was related to.

Altogether, the day had resulted in little information. Harry felt less than enthusiastic at the prospects of having Malfoy there longer, tossing his feelings about and confusing him.

Harry wanted to return to what he had before Malfoy came. Things were simpler when he thought he couldn't be attracted to anyone. He had even come to accept that the only companionship he would have was that of friendship.

Harry had been comfortable with that reality. He could easily explain away any relationship furthering by saying his past would be too risky to allow it to continue. Now, he wasn't so sure his excuse would be good enough to put a stopper to the feelings slowly welling up inside him.

Sure, Malfoy was an attractive wizard, but there were plenty of those. Why was it that his reaction to Malfoy was exceedingly more uncontrollable than others had been? Was it because he knew that Malfoy was gay and that there would be albeit a small possibility that the feelings could be returned?

Harry didn't know. Didn't want to know. He wanted to push down these feelings and focus on finding this book as quickly as he could.

They returned home relatively quickly. Harry immediately made dinner, as he was now growing accustomed to feeding Malfoy. He made a simple dish, offering it to Malfoy and immediately excusing himself to search through what he could find on the internet.

Since he was sure that very few wizards used the muggle internet, he had an advantage of possibly finding more information. He ignored the curious glances that Malfoy gave him as they were usually accompanied with any activity that was new to the other wizard. He searched over the next hour and only found minor details about the book. Seemed that the information was kept tightly sealed within the McEvoy family.

Harry breathed out in frustration and slammed the laptop closed.

"Discover anything?"

Harry shook his head and massaged his temple. "Not anything we hadn't known already." He tossed the other wizard an apologetic glance as his voice had come out much angrier than he intended. "I can see why you had trouble finding information. Looks like we'll have to search out details the old-fashioned way."

Malfoy seemed uneasy before he traveled the small distance to sit beside Harry on the sofa, startling him slightly with the movement.

Harry didn't keep much furniture. Never had to. He didn't often play host to any of his acquaintances in town, and Dakin sat, slept, and ate wherever so never concerned himself over extra seating.

Since the sofa was more of a loveseat style, it meant their bodies were mere inches from each other. Harry scooted closer to the arm of the couch on his side, hoping the subtle movement didn't get taken the wrong way. His heart was starting to pound in his chest at the close proximity, and surely, he would start to blush at any moment.

"I am not going to attack you, Potter. I may be attracted to wizards, but you are hardly my type."

A sharp pain hit his chest, splaying out and consuming the area with a heavy heat. It had hurt Harry – more than he cared to admit – that Malfoy had rejected him so blatantly.

He laughed it off. "You aren't mine either, so stop sticking to me. Hopefully by now, I have made it clear to you that I am serious about finding the book for you. You need to trust me a little. I may be under duress here, but when I make a promise, I keep it."

Malfoy seemed to ponder his words for a moment before nodding his understand. "Very well. It is evident that you intend to keep your word as I do mine. I have business that will take me to London for a few days, so I hope to test this trust I have put into you. Do not fail me, Potter. I am not a forgiving man."

"What do you do anyway?" Harry found himself asking, hoping to ignore the heat in his chest from the rejection.

"I brew potions for the Ministry," Malfoy responded nonchalantly.

Harry almost asked an inappropriate question about how he managed to with his father's crimes but was able to keep it to himself. They had come to an accord of sorts, and he didn't want to ruin it with inappropriate prying.

"Seems fitting, I guess. You were always good in Potions even though I still believe a bit of that was favoritism," Harry taunted with a wry grin.

"Unlike you, Potter, I excel in many things. Most infallibly in potion-brewing," Malfoy retorted arrogantly. Harry had mind to roll his eyes but refrained. Malfoy's conceit knew no bounds it would seem.

"Uh-huh," he finally said as he stood from the sofa, hoping to distance them a little. He was still slightly affronted by the previous statement and needed to clear his head. "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow," Malfoy responded curtly. "I assume you are not linked to the floo network here?"

"Unfortunately, no," Harry replied sheepishly.

Being connected to the floo network was still too risky, even six years later. His correspondences were owls and mobile. Hermione, being now connected with Arthur Weasley, was able to procure a cellular phone to keep in touch with him. Ron had even taken a liking to speaking with Harry through it.

"Very well. I shall Apparate and send owl of my expected return," Malfoy said in a business-like manner before excusing himself to the bathroom.

Harry had also noticed that Malfoy showered twice – sometimes thrice – daily. He wasn't sure if that was connected with living in "poverty" or just a normal routine, but it was something he had notated while the other wizard had been there.

In a short time, he had grown less and less disgusted with Malfoy. Instead, he found he was rather intrigued by the other wizard. There seemed to be a lot hidden behind all those aristocratic airs, and Harry wanted to know more against his better judgment.

Maybe a few days away from each other would remind him of that. Remind him of how easily he could forget Malfoy and all these complicated feelings that came with the other wizard.

Malfoy had left without so much as a note when Harry awoke the next day. He hadn't expected much anyway, he told himself as he hurriedly dressed for the day. The walk to work felt much quieter; although, he didn't quite miss all the quips about poverty and muggle-living from Malfoy, it was nice to have a conversation in the early morning instead of being left to his own thoughts the entire way.

When he arrived at the little bookshop, Dakin was already waiting for him. The older wizard looked around in perplexity before fixing Harry with a stare. "Where's prissy boy?" the older wizard asked before his eyes lit up. "Did he leave?"

"He will be back in a few days," Harry responded as he set his things down on the counter.

Dakin's moment of happiness was cut too short as it would seem from his dispirited reply. "Oh." He recovered quickly, "Well, in that case, I cleaned—sort of—so we can watch those zombie movies at my flat tonight since your little prissy mummy is away."

Harry chuckled. Maybe that was a good idea. "I guess so."

"Your enthusiasm is blinding, Harry."

Harry smiled wryly at his friend. "Oh Great Dakin, please allow me the honor of joining you tonight in a zombie movie marathon!"

"That's more like it!" Dakin laughed heartily before kicking up his shoes in their usual manner and reading through his usual choice of novel – erotica.

Harry shook his head. The man had no shame.

Zombies still scared the bejesus out of Harry. He closed his eyes to a particularly horrific scene of one tearing apart its victim, catching sight of his companion's eyes in which glittered happily as opposed to his.

"You look like a little kid with your eyes glittering happily like that," Harry pointed out with a small smile.

Dakin offered him an unapologetic shrug. "I'm young at heart, Harry."

"A little too young, some may say."

"Right bastards. All of them," Dakin stated with a smirk.

Harry leaned back into the couch, cradling his head against the couch. The thing was still soiled, and since Dakin managed to clean a bit of the floor, he decided that it would be the best place to sit. "Hey, Dakin."

"Hm," the other man responded absently as another attack of zombies filled the screen. The main characters were fighting them off desperately, losing one of their companions to the horde.

Harry swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. If he could ask anyone, it would be Dakin. "Have you ever thought about…you know, blokes?"

Dakin's face drew down in a frown before he glanced over his shoulder at Harry. "Thought about blokes?"

"Yeah," Harry said, swallowing around his hesitation. Just ask it. "Like you think about women."

Realization dawned in the older wizard's eyes, and his face grew serious. "Do you, Harry?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" Harry couldn't keep eye contact. He glanced down at his clammy hands, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

"Anyone in particular?" the other wizard asked unabashedly.

Harry bit his lower lip. He was slightly uncomfortable with the mere topic but this question was even more disconcerting to him. He knew that no matter what had transpired through the years, Dakin had never judged him. He could trust that Dakin's friendship would never condemn him for his attraction towards men. Still, he was afraid. He was afraid of the possibility that Dakin would be ashamed of him.

He swallowed through his nervousness, toying with the idea of pretending to be drunk and asleep to keep from answering.

"Harry," the other called, fingers gripping his chin and forcing him to face the serious eyes of his friend. "Do you have those sort of feelings for someone?"

"Maybe," Harry whispered, hating how weak his voice sounded. "I'm not really sure."

Dakin's eyes darkened slightly. "It had better not be that prissy boy."

Harry's heart went cold. His stomach hardened, and the sudden shame of it all caused him to try to pull away. Dakin held fast.

"He's not right for you, Harry," Dakin stated bluntly. "He would use you like some sort of toy before discarding you as if you never mattered. You deserve better."

"He's not like that," Harry heard himself argue.

"Oh? Then tell me the real reason you're getting this book for him."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "What?"

"The real reason, Harry. Tell me. I know you've been lying about your being friends with him. I'm not stupid despite the common belief I am. I am also not oblivious to how tense you are around him. How is he forcing you to help him?" Dakin demanded angrily.

Harry suddenly felt an urge to flee. He didn't. He wanted to explain things. It wasn't like that – at least not anymore. It was true that initially he had been blackmailed into helping, but now he genuinely didn't mind having Malfoy around. He actually even missed the bastard despite himself.

"It's not like that," Harry replied firmly. "I am helping him because I want to."

"Bollocks," Dakin growled before releasing Harry's chin. "He's got you brainwashed to believe you are. Feck…"

Harry had never seen Dakin look this seriously angry. The man had his tempers, but not so passionately. He felt sort of guilty for making Dakin react this way.

"Look, let's forget it," Harry started lamely, hoping to derail some of the anger. "I'm not really sure what is going on. It's probably just a temporary fancy is all."

Dakin's face was grim. His usual cheer was completely absent as he watched Harry desperately attempt to derail to another conversation. Instead, Dakin pulled Harry towards himself, embracing him so hard Harry was sure his bones would break.

"He can't have you," Dakin growled lowly. "You hear me. We'll find this book of his, and he'll be out of your life. He can't have you." Harry was speechless as the embrace continued. He wasn't quite sure what was really going on as his friend hugged him bodily. "I won't allow it. You understand?"

Harry pulled away finally when the man's arms weakened around him. "Dakin, what—"

"Let's just forget it for now," Dakin interjected. "I don't want to ruin our night together."

Harry was still very confused but turned back to the film all the same. It was very un-Dakin-like to be so angry even after the conversation had ended. He felt sick with guilt. He shouldn't have brought it up. There was no way that the two of them would recover from this. It would be there until Malfoy left. Maybe even after.

TBC…

Omgosh, you guys are awesome. I am truly grateful for you reviews. Currently, Draco is sort of a dick, but I promise fluffy romance in the future. As always, looking forward to hearing what you thought and will be updating soon. The chapters are just flowing out of me!


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four: Deal-Breaker_

The next few days crawled by, leaving Harry exhausted and frustrated. The continued dreams of a certain absent wizard plagued him nightly. He also had a rather awkward sort of exchange with Dakin every time they were together.

Nothing felt right anymore. His entire life that he had worked tirelessly over the last six years to maintain felt like it was disintegrating around him. It made him bitter. Bitter mostly at himself, but partly at Malfoy for corrupting his normalcy.

So, when Malfoy returned from his business after a few days, Harry was hardly welcoming. Actually, he almost ignored the other wizard entirely in attempts at calming the raging storm of emotions brewing with the arrival.

"You look a mess, Potter."

 _Thanks to you, you right bastard._

Harry glared silently at Malfoy before going into the kitchen and attempting to soothe his rage with cooking.

If it was one thing he had learned in those years he was forced to live with the Dursleys, it was that cooking had a sort of relaxing effect on his person. The amount of focus it needed took him away from the nearly overwhelming emotions his relatives had brought about. Now being no exception.

Harry quickly added a few choice ingredients to the omelet, seasoning it to his liking with the flick of his wrist over the pan. It helped calm him substantially as he watched the egg bubble in the pan. Right up until Malfoy decided Harry had been too long in the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

Harry nearly growled. "What does it look like, you prat? I'm cooking breakfast."

There was a moment of silence before Malfoy came beside him and peered curiously at his face. "What has got you all huffy, Potter? Are you perhaps…menstruating?"

That did it. Harry's rage was back. He slammed the spatula down onto the counter with a bang and rounded on the other wizard, disregarding the near foot of height difference. "You're a right bastard, Malfoy!"

Malfoy's eyes grew circular before slitting with rage. "Pardon? I barely arrive, and you are already angry with me? That hardly seems mature, Potter."

Harry scoffed before jerking the pan of the burner and flipping the omelet with practiced grace. Malfoy was momentarily sidetracked by the action, apparently amazed by the skill. Harry slid the pan back onto the burner and focused his glare back on the other wizard.

"Mature? What sort of adult complains and whines like a child with a bit of cold? Even more, blackmails someone to obtain an item they desire in exchange for not ruining that person's small semblance of happiness? You have no right to say that to me, Malfoy." Harry's voice had dropped several octaves in warning. His body prickled with his fury, magic whipping out around them and electrifying the air. "You also seem to underestimate me, Malfoy. If not for my conscience, you wouldn't be alive right now."

Malfoy seemed to sense that his taunting had gone a bit too far. In an act that caught Harry by complete surprise, mostly because it felt like he should be dreaming, Malfoy's face frowned and eyes portrayed genuine guilt. "I apologize, Potter. I seem to have insulted you greatly –"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. " _Intentionally_ , insulted me greatly."

"Yes," Malfoy stated apprehensively. For the first time since Harry had known Malfoy, the other man gave way to a less than elegant action. He shrugged sheepishly while saying: "Old habits die hard, Potter."

Harry couldn't hold it back. He laughed out loud. His head jerked back, and he laughed like he hadn't laughed in a long time. With tears streaming his eyes, he regarded the other wizard who seemed flabbergasted by the display.

"Okay," he finally said, wiping a few stray tears. "I'll forgive you this time. Mostly because you seem genuinely apologetic. You are a right bastard though, Malfoy."

"Undeniably, Potter. I never claimed to be otherwise." Malfoy seemed uneasy but asked once more, "So what's the reason for your agitation? I doubt it is entirely due to my arrival."

"No," Harry said finally as he attempted to salvage the burning omelet. "I just…have a lot on my mind right now."

"I know our relationship is not exactly one in which thoughts could be shared as they are with friends, but I am going to be here a while. I could listen," Malfoy offered surprisingly. Harry's face was sure to say so. "Oh, come on Potter, I am not completely devoid of empathy. I do realize that our circumstances and relationship hardly give you any reason to desire such an offer, but I would rather not be on the receiving end of your wrath without reason either."

It was surprising that Malfoy would offer. Mostly because Malfoy wasn't the sort of wizard that troubled himself over others. Maybe this relationship development wasn't one-sided like Harry initially believed. Maybe Malfoy was starting to warm to him as well. This very thought made his stomach flutter intensely.

"I…sure," Harry thought out loud. "I mean, no. I don't need to talk about it. It's not your fault. Sorry, it was bad form to take it out on you."

"Well at least you acknowledge your mistake."

"Prat," Harry laughed before plating the slightly overcooked omelet. "Okay, since you made me ruin the omelet, you had better eat it." He offered a plate to Malfoy who gladly accepted it and headed to the dining table.

Harry's emotions swirled again. He was right back where he started. Sighing, he took a seat beside Malfoy and enjoyed a small moment with the other wizard over breakfast.

Harry had called Dakin earlier that day to give him the day off. He was sort of eager to spend a bit more time with Malfoy _alone_ – though he would never say so out loud. Instead, he offered to choose another series for Malfoy to read since the other wizard had finished the previous one.

He skimmed through his collection thoughtfully. It would seem that Malfoy was intrigued by adventure since the last book had been an adventure series, so deciding that Malfoy may enjoy a little magic, he chose 'The Lord of the Rings' series. Taking the prequel 'Hobbit' over to Malfoy, he offered the other wizard the book.

"This one is a bit longer, but I think you'll enjoy it all the same," Harry said with a kind smile.

After their spat earlier, everything felt calmer between them. Friendlier maybe? Though Harry was sort of hesitant to use the word. What he imagined doing with Malfoy was far from what a friend would do. It made him feel guilty to think of it.

Malfoy studied the book curiously, as if the cover might give way to some sort of information. Harry had to keep from laughing. It was just like watching a child – the apprehension was sort of endearing.

"I will be going to town tonight to see if I can find out more information," Harry started as he sat behind the checkout counter. "A mate of mine might know how I can get in touch with someone related to the McEvoys."

Malfoy had started the book, so he had to glance upwards from the page to address Harry. "Oh?" The lack of interest made Harry slightly perplexed. However, Malfoy recovered quickly and continued, "Might I join you?"

"You're asking for permission?" Harry stated with mock surprise. He pinched himself for added effect. "I must be dreaming."

"Very funny, Potter."

"Yeah, you can come along," Harry replied with a wry grin. "No complaining though, or I'll make you walk home."

Malfoy seemed genuinely shocked by this statement. "You would what?"

"You heard me, Malfoy. Now shut it," he said before a customer entered the store, and their conversation was effectively silenced.

"Well," Harry said with a great sigh as they left the small home just outside of Sligo, "that was a waste of time."

"I couldn't agree more, Potter," Malfoy concurred bitterly.

The last two hours had consisted of no information and a whole lot of storytelling that had very little to do with what they were in search of. Unfortunately, as Harry was unable to be rude, they had listened for nearly two hours while the old man prattled on about the old days.

Malfoy had looked nauseated upon leaving. Harry was—unfortunately—in much the same state. The saying 'nails on a chalkboard' came to mind as the trudged down the path towards where the car was parked.

"That muggle certainly enjoyed the sound of his own voice," Malfoy complained with a grim look.

"Something the two of you have in common," Harry commented with a smirk to which Malfoy casted a glare at him. Harry laughed softly before opening the car. "Yeah, many of them are like that."

"It felt like the bad end of an interview with Rita Skeeter." And Harry had to agree.

It was already nearly eight by the time they finished, so they headed into town for supper. Since he assumed that Malfoy would be unsatisfied with any establishment they would eat at, he chose his personal favorite and headed just out of the heart of Sligo.

The atmosphere welcomed them as soon as they arrived. There were cheers and laughter around the makeshift bar counter where an old box television displayed the current football game. Seemed Sligo was playing tonight.

It was a bit more crowded than usual, causing his companion to nearly paint against his side as they navigated through the crowd towards the hostess. She greeted them with a small smile, bobbing her head knowingly at Harry, before leading them towards a more private part of the restaurant. Thankfully, he was a regular and treated to the best seats in the house.

As the cheering continued around them, Harry offered to explain the menu to the uncomfortable looking Malfoy.

"This is the best they have," Harry stated pointing to a meal on the list. "From what I know of your tastes, you won't be displeased."

Malfoy looked genuinely grateful as he nodded at Harry. "Thank you."

"Just trying to avoid hearing you complain, Malfoy."

"Undoubtedly." Malfoy peeled his eyes away from all the activity at the bar towards Harry. "So do you come here often, Potter?"

"Is that some sort of lame pick-up line, Malfoy? I would have thought the Great Draco Malfoy would be well-versed in the art of seduction by now," Harry taunted with a wry grin.

Malfoy's face morphed into disgust. "And you call me conceited. Do you think everyone just falls over themselves in love with you, Potter?" Harry shrugged, smiling. Malfoy rubbed his face in frustration. "How you have managed to have relations with women is beyond me, Potter."

Harry licked his lips apprehensively, pretending to be occupied with his menu. "I don't."

"Pardon?"

"I don't. Have relations with women that is," Harry elaborated nonchalantly as he pretended to look over the menu. Truth be told, he already knew what he wanted before they had walked in the door. "I—uh—haven't had any sort of relationship since Hogwarts."

"How is that even possible?" Malfoy asked with piqued interest. "That is six bloody years, Potter!"

Harry smiled sadly, eyes glancing up towards the beauty of his companion. "Unlike you, I'm not anyone's type. And it's better that way," Harry stated almost whispering. The conversation had ventured into another awkward topic, so he steered it back. "So, I asked Dakin to watch over the shop for a couple of days. I got a call from another acquaintance in Galway that has seen a book with the same title as the one we are looking for. He's going to take us to it. It's worth a shot, right?"

Malfoy seemed less than happy with Harry's derailment. His eyes were watching Harry, observing him in a way that made Harry want to fidget. The scrutiny was starting to make his heart palpitate nervously.

Harry had never truly feared anyone – even Voldemort. Why was it—however—that when Malfoy looked at him with such intensity Harry wanted to flee, or in the very least, look away?

Harry found his eyes straying away from the other, appearing to observe their surroundings as if those eyes, that body, didn't beckon him back. He swallowed around his nervousness and was glad for the reprieve when their waitress took the order.

When she left, Harry was once more faced with his current predicament. He was finding he didn't appreciate how observant Malfoy was. It didn't do him any good when he wanted to portray himself differently than what he felt.

"You are inconceivably terrible at deception, Potter," the other wizard stated simply. "Regardless, it is hardly my business why you have chosen a life of celibacy. I—on the other hand—would be unable to manage that sort of physical restraint."

Harry felt the relief of laughter as he tossed Malfoy another smirk. "Yeah, you'd probably combust with pent up sexual frustration."

"There is no shame in a healthy sex drive, Potter," Malfoy proclaimed arrogantly. "I wonder how you have managed this long."

"Not everyone needs it as often as you do," Harry stated, imagining that Malfoy must indeed have a very, _very_ healthy sexual appetite. Although, the very idea gave Harry a tight feeling in his chest. It made his stomach feel queasy just imagining Malfoy with another.

" _Six years_ , though, Potter. Unfathomable," Malfoy commented with disbelief.

Six years was no small feat. True. Several days—however—was easily accomplished.

Although, this made Harry question how Malfoy was managing while being out here with him. Did Malfoy seek relief while he was away for those few days? That mere thought caused pain to shoot through Harry's chest and left him momentarily breathless.

This was doing him no good. Why should he care where Malfoy got his? It shouldn't matter to him at all. He repeated his mantra desperately until their food arrived, offering only vague responses to Malfoy's few attempts at conversation.

Normally, Harry was quite lazy when it came to his leisure mornings. Lately, he had made a point to be hospitable despite the company. However, after nearly an entire night of restlessly, desperately attempting to sleep, Harry was less than willing to get up.

He resituated the blanket around him for the umpteenth time before trying to settle once more into sleep.

He had planned to leave for Galway in early afternoon, so there was no real need to rush out of bed. He was even happy to make Malfoy starve just to avoid seeing him. However, after the evening they shared, Harry was even more confused by his thoughts and feelings.

He shouldn't want Malfoy this much. It had never been this hard to disregard someone, and the feelings he had for them. Yet, here he was, struggling to disregard Malfoy.

He couldn't fathom the reasoning. He wondered if the sharing of quarters, or maybe even the quality time spent had aided in the struggle. Maybe the very idea of Malfoy being gay was making his thoughts addled.

Regardless, Harry was a mess. A bloody filthy mess.

Harry turned over again, groaning when all the movement did was make him face another direction. Nothing was bringing sleep. Also, the pesky little part in his trousers had been throbbing and hard all morning. He refused to touch himself again. He would never be able to face Malfoy the next few days if he did.

No. He needed to think of something else. Something to make his little problem go away.

Minerva McGonagall dressed only in her knickers. Harry shudder, his face drawing down in disgust. That only managed to make him queasy. Okay, maybe a different approach. Harry closed his eyes tightly, thinking of Snape, naked and brewing potions bare-arsed.

 _That's just dangerous_ , Harry thought. He laughed out loud. That wasn't helpful either.

Harry threw his arm out and pivoted with a groan onto his back. Bloody hormones. He wasn't some…teenager. Why wouldn't this bloody erection go away?!

A few knocks at his door made his body stiffen instantly. Malfoy opened his door, presuming his knocking was enough to gain entry. Harry quickly bundled the blanket to cover his erection and glared at the perfectly preened wizard as he entered unbidden into Harry's room.

"Do you think that you might surface from your bed chambers before noon, Potter?"

Harry growled before tightening his hold on the comforter. "What are you doing in here, Malfoy?"

Malfoy walked unabashedly into the room, settling down on the bed and confronting Harry head-on. Harry's hold tightened impossibly. His lower body was responding to the idea of having Malfoy here, in his room.

His pulse spiked and face flushed. Malfoy was on his bed like he had been in his dream. Harry's breathing grew ragged as he attempted to return Malfoy's stare. "Well?"

"I simply wondered if you had died, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Unlucky for you, I'm in good health."

Malfoy's eyes glinted with amusement, traveling first from Harry's face and then down to the tightly held comforter. "Problem there, Potter?"

Harry's breath whooshed out of him. "What?" he croaked.

Malfoy's eyebrow rose a fraction. "I assumed by the near death grip you have on your duvet, you are _up_ in other ways, hm?"

Harry couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Was he having that dream again? Could this be the start of another wet dream? Did he manage to fall asleep? Harry's mind ran rampant with theories.

"I suppose that six years of repression could lead to a very _sizeable_ problem."

Harry was frozen. Unable to speak or breathe as Malfoy continued to watch him with unrestrained amusement. Bloody bastard.

"It's the bloody morning, you prat!" Harry all but yelled before his jaw clamped down.

Malfoy looked positively delighted. Fuck.

Deciding that there was little else he could do to humiliate himself, Harry threw the comforter from his hidden lower half and got out of bed in a huff. His face had gone every shade of red as he stormed towards the bathroom. He shut himself inside and pressed his forehead to the door, suddenly very tired.

Merlin. What did he see in that bastard?!

"Just keep an eye on things," Harry said again to the argumentative Dakin. "I'll be back in a day or two." He hung up the call and immediately packed up the car to leave.

"Mountain troll trouble?"

Harry tossed Malfoy a glare before getting inside the car and closing the door. "No," he said in a clipped tone before starting the car.

Actually, he had big trouble. Dakin was close to chasing him down – even using a locator spell if he needed to – in order to force Harry home and away from Malfoy. He hadn't been exactly forthcoming with the details of the trip. Mostly, he hadn't be forthcoming about taking Malfoy.

Ever since their discussion several nights ago, Dakin hadn't been acting the same to Harry. If anything, the older wizard had become overbearing. Harry was starting to lose his temper with it all. Surrounded by invasive wizards was starting to become a real problem.

Aside from the obvious dislike for Malfoy, Dakin seemed to have another motive for keeping Harry away from the blonde wizard. Harry wasn't completely daft. He knew that Dakin felt a sense of ownership with him – similar to a younger brother complex, perhaps?

Regardless, Harry didn't appreciate others deciding anything for him. He had worked too long, too hard to be his own person. He didn't need some bloody know-it-alls deciding what was _best_ for him. No matter how much he cared about them.

They drove for about an hour before stopping at a small gas station. The long drive thus far had made him crave something sufficiently cold – and probably with a fair amount of caffeine. Besides the fact that Malfoy chose to watch him the entire hour, Harry was forced to ignore incessant calls from Dakin. Having to finally turn off his phone after the tenth call.

Harry chose a few sodas for them to drink, guessing that Malfoy would never have opted to drink one, but deciding he cared less if the prat complained.

When he got back to the car, Malfoy had his mobile situated against his ear with a rather devilish smirk on his face. Harry was suddenly very afraid of what Malfoy might be saying, no doubt to Dakin. He rushed over to the car and fought with the door to open it. Bloody bastard had locked the door!

Harry knocked insistently on the window. "Malfoy, you bastard, unlock the door!"

Malfoy's face morphed into mock surprise, pretending that he wasn't sure how to unlock it before saying something into the phone. Unfortunately for Harry, it was said too low that he could make it out, and he wasn't capable of lip-reading.

Harry banged on the window a bit harder, probably drawing attention of random bystanders by now. "Open the bloody door."

Also unfortunately for Harry, his daft arse left his wand next to his seat. He didn't carry it in fear of losing it. Today's chosen assemble also left no real place to pocket it. Harry cursed his bad decision making. He was paying dearly for _being his own man_ and now reaped the consequences.

Harry thought for a moment before coming to his senses. The back door had always been screwy. He rounded the car, and with practiced grace and a little bit of prayer to Merlin, he jerked and jostled it until it gave. The door flew open, and Harry crawled inside to wrestle the phone away from Malfoy.

He almost managed it, but Malfoy was much quicker and easily maneuvered the phone away from Harry.

"Bastard," Harry growled as he tried to push through to the front.

His hips got stuck just as he managed his torso through. Damn tiny cars. Struggling, Harry caught sight of the amused grin on Malfoy's face. He growled again as the other wizard leaned forwards until their faces were mere inches apart.

"You are quite clumsy, Potter."

"Shut it," Harry breathed angrily though his efforts made his voice rather tempered by the fighting against his stuck hips.

Thankfully, it seemed the people who had been initially interested in the argument had lost all interest and returned to what they were doing.

"Need help?"

"Fucking bastard," Harry growled breathlessly. His pant pocket had caught something in his struggle and now he was effectively stuck. "What the fuck do you think you were doing?!"

"The intimidation you seek is dramatically lessened by your current state of stuck, Potter," Malfoy managed between chuckles.

Harry lost some of his gusto before he realized he could reach his wand from here. There wasn't anyone looking—not at the moment anyway—so he could do a bit of magic to get him out of this. As he reached for it, Malfoy took the opportunity to steal it away and hold it just beyond his reach.

"You are a muggle now, Potter. No need for magic to untangle yourself," Malfoy taunted with a wry grin. He leaned forward with breath heating Harry's face and eliciting unbidden tremors to run through him. "If you ask nicely, I just might help you."

Harry let his head drop, breathing out his frustration and anger. "What did you say to Dakin?" he asked deceptively.

Malfoy took the bait, leaning back and crossing his arms defensively. "What the troll wanted to hear. I had forced you against your will to aide my search."

Harry cursed silently, eyeing his wand against Malfoy's torso. "And?"

Malfoy eyes watched him intensely. "And…if he interfered, he would live to regret it."

"What a Malfoy thing to say," Harry replied, watching as Malfoy's arms weakened at this reply and without hesitation, took the opportunity to steal back his wand.

He quickly cast the appropriate spells and removed himself from the car. Taking care that no one was watching, he retrieved his items, keys, and phone before heading towards the gas station once more.

"Potter," Malfoy called out, but Harry didn't turn around. "Potter! Where do you think you are going?"

"Go ahead and tell everyone where I am," Harry replied angrily before heading towards the small assortment of shops behind the station. "I won't help you anymore. Not if you are threatening people I care about. The deal is off."

Harry left Malfoy there in the car at the gas station and didn't even cast a singular glance backwards.

TBC…

Sorry about the cliffy. Since I've been getting the chapters out so quickly, I wanted to give something for you to look forward to. I really appreciate your kind reviews. Realistically, Draco and Harry hated each other for years. Years, peeps. That kind of animosity is hard to overcome. So what's next for our tenacious Gryffindor hero? Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five: Unbidden Dreaming_

Harry watched with unabated fascination as Malfoy closed in on him, almost predatory in his movement. Blue-gray eyes flowed over him. Taking every sharp flutter of his chest as his breathing grew ragged. Every languid swipe of Harry's tongue when his lips grew dry with the rapid, shallow breathing. Every uncomfortable fidget against the wall Harry now found himself pinned.

Malfoy studied him. Devoured him wholly with his eyes. And Harry was frozen, unable to escape the lustful gaze of the other.

When he glanced towards the door just feet from them, Malfoy moved at him like a striking snake, catching hold of his wrists and pinning them roughly above his head – immobilizing him.

Harry gasped with surprise, finding his body now sandwiched between a hard wall and a firm, muscular body. His lower half twitched with interest as he tested his new imprisonment.

Hot wisps of breaths fell over the side of his face as he attempted to turn away from the lust-shadowed eyes now regarding him silently.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry demanded breathlessly, voice much weaker than he had intended.

Malfoy's silky voice flowed into his ears like the sultriest melody. "What would you _like_ for me to do, Harry?" His forename startled him enough to jerk his eyes back to the other wizard in perplexity. "Six years," the voice whispered, lips ghosting over his own tantalizingly, flirting with him in a way that made his body shudder in anticipation.

"Six years?" he questioned. Why did that sound so familiar?

"I wonder how you managed this long. If you ask nicely, I just might help you," Malfoy whispered against his lips, eliciting sparks of electricity where they touched.

That sounded familiar too. Harry's brained worked as he attempted to comprehend the familiarity of what Malfoy was saying. However, the body against his thrust into him, driving a knee between his slightly agape thighs and prying them open. His lower half responded in a jerking motion as his growing erection was swiped expertly with that knee.

Harry's head lolled backwards, a gasp escaping his lips as pleasure washed through him like a hot current.

Merlin.

"There is no shame in a healthy sex drive, Harry," Malfoy cooed as the knee continued to move against his hardening prick. The subtle pull of déjà vu continued to plague Harry despite the flows of pleasure now washing over him in continuous waves.

Why did this all feel so familiar?

"…you've said this," Harry rasped as pleasure tainted his voice. "You've said this all before."

Malfoy's eyes darkened almost impossibly. "Have I?" the other wizard mused as he wrenched Harry's trousers opened roughly. "I think you must be intoxicated by the pleasure, Harry. You are speaking nonsense."

No. He couldn't be. It was all familiar.

Harry desperately sought the reason for this déjà vu like feeling, but Malfoy was stripping him so fiercely that the blonde wizard had even torn through his shirt, exposing the honeyed flesh beneath. Hands splayed over his skin, scraping and kneading it, deriving short gasps of ecstasy from Harry's lips.

It felt too good. His brained was becoming addled and incoherent as fingers rolled his perked nipples, twisting them and sending shocking sparks to spider out over his flesh. Harry bit back a groan. The hands continued their dizzying pace down his torso, but the subtle pull of his conscious thought slipped between the breaks in pleasure.

This didn't make sense. Why was he here? With Malfoy of all people?

The image of a car jumped into his vision. He left Malfoy there.

Harry jolted, his eyes suddenly open and staring at his bedroom ceiling. His body hummed with post-orgasmic bliss, and by the wetness in his trousers, he knew he had come. Groaning angrily, Harry threw the sheets from him and headed towards the bathroom. It was still early in the morning—three to be exact—as he stumbled towards the bathroom for the fourth time that week.

After leaving Malfoy in Galway—with his car—Harry had managed a ride from an infuriated Dakin and had come home later that day. It had been an entire week since then. Malfoy had never returned to his home, surely because he was in the process of speaking to the whereabouts of the savior of the wizarding world.

Despite the overwhelming bitterness he felt, Harry still found he missed the blonde's presence in his home. Every night he dreamed about them together. And every night he woke, soiled from his dream and in need of a shower.

He cursed his temper. Cursed these feelings that ran through him, coating every part of him and never fading. However, what was done was done. Little could change it now.

Over the last few days, he had seen an attorney to sort through the ownership of the business. Since he was more than likely going to be forced to return to the world he had left behind, he didn't want Dakin to suffer. He was in the midst of transferring the ownership, signing all the necessary paperwork and paying all the necessary fees.

Harry boiled the water for his tea like he had all the mornings before it when he heard the harsh knocking at this door. It was still a little early for Dakin to show—he had been catching rides to Sligo for groceries—but he figured that Dakin must just be on point that day.

A gasp left his lips as he opened the door. There stood, impeccably dressed in a midnight-black three-piece suit, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy's pale hair was tossed in a sort of messy-but-sophisticated way about his face, framing his enchantingly stormy eyes and perfectly molded features. The man was the embodiment of beauty and a feast for the eye.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" he asked still stricken too much with shock to get angry.

Malfoy stood straighter as he regarded Harry with an uncomfortable smile. "I came to apologize."

Harry's words fled him, not quite comprehending what Malfoy was saying. "Apologize?"

"I…" Malfoy faltered, fixing the cuff of his shirt and then settling his gaze once more on Harry. "I will not expose you. You have my word. I do not expect anything from you. I only wish that if there is any possibility you might absolve my behavior, even task me as you see fit to amend for my disgracing you…and the troll—I mean, McClain—then I hope you might offer me that chance."

"You…you mean you haven't told anyone?"

Malfoy's face remained impassive. "We have an accordance; however, it was built on unsavory circumstances. The more time I spent with you—loathe as I am to admit it—I became rather regretful of how I forced your assistance and now seek to amend this connection." Malfoy swallowed visibly. If Harry knew better, he might think the other wizard was nervous. "I hope that you might…assist me not out of duty but…as a favor."

Yeah, he must be dreaming. This was one odd wet dream though. Very unlike the others.

Harry remained silent as he waited for Malfoy to either pounce on him or pin him to the nearest wall. When nothing happened, his body grew ridged.

"Wait," he said, still slightly flabbergasted. "You mean, this isn't some dream? You're really saying this?"

Malfoy looked utterly bewildered. "Dream? Why in Merlin's name would this be a dream, Potter?"

He called him Potter. Harry's eyes widened impossibly. Dream Malfoy never called him Potter!

"So you want to be friends?"

Malfoy's face morphed with derision at the word. "I suppose that is one way of putting it; however much it lacks refinement. In simple terms, yes. I seek to know you better, Potter."

"Bloody hell," Harry breathed with a small smile. As if a slate had been wiped clean, Malfoy had erased almost all of his anger with just the mere idea. "Okay then. I'll help."

Malfoy's face brightened, causing Harry a momentary lapse in coherent thought. It was gorgeous when Draco Malfoy smiled—truly smiled. Harry nearly pinched himself, but instead, stuck out his hand.

"Nice to meet you," he stated with a wry grin. "I'm Harry Potter."

Malfoy rolled his eyes—somehow making the usually childish behavior elegant—before firmly taking Harry's hand. "Draco Malfoy."

Somehow, the two had managed to come to an arrangement. Malfoy was going to become rather busy in the next few weeks, so in the meantime, he would stay with Harry so that they could seek out the book. They still had yet to follow the lead in Galway, so that was first on their list.

Harry smiled as Malfoy ate his plate of egg and potato hash as elegantly as one could when they enjoyed the food. Malfoy had requested it as soon as they had come inside. Since Harry was already in the midst of getting ready to cook breakfast, he had obliged the request – quite liking this imploring Malfoy.

"Your motor vehicle," Malfoy said as he finished his food, wiping delicately at his mouth.

Harry sighed at the display. Malfoy really needed to lighten up. "My car?" he urged when Malfoy said nothing further.

"I have returned it," Malfoy continued with a small smirk. "With a few upgrades." There was a mischievous glint to the blonde's eyes, and it made Harry suddenly very frightened of these _upgrades_.

Harry's eyebrow rose a fraction in the midst of his arms crossing. "Upgrades?"

"Living amongst muggles does not mean you must suffer their lifestyle, Potter," Malfoy stated reproachfully. "I added some much needed functions."

"I'm not sure if I should be thankful or frightened," Harry teased.

"Consider it one of the many benefits of your partnership with me," Malfoy proclaimed self-importantly.

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. Malfoy was still Malfoy—friendship or not.

"Well, I look forward to seeing what you think are 'much needed functions' for _my_ car," Harry stated pointedly before looking over at the clock. "However, it's time for me to head to the shop. I'm sure you'll manage while I'm gone."

Malfoy's face tightened before he looked at Harry imploringly. Bollocks. Harry knew that look, and that look meant that he was going to have to explain all of this to Dakin sooner rather than later. Shite. Harry groaned before nodding at the unvoiced question.

"Come along then," he said in resignation. "I won't intervene if you and Dakin get into it."

"That troll hardly scares me, Potter," Malfoy retorted with disdain.

Harry shook his head as he pulled on his coat. "That may be so, Malfoy, but that _troll_ is a dear friend; and if you are intent on having this friendship with me, you will learn to, in the very least, tolerate him. And never call him a troll."

Malfoy's nose drew up in disgust, but his body yielded. That was the universal Malfoy sign for "I will, but I won't like it."

When Malfoy made for the car, Harry shook his head and set off on a steady gait. Malfoy looked ready to complain, but instead fell in step with Harry as they headed towards the bookshop.

Harry was rather worried about the unavoidable meeting of Malfoy and Dakin. He still wasn't sure what Malfoy had said to Dakin, but it had been enough to make Dakin red with rage. Harry had never seen the man so angry. Anytime he attempted to find out what Malfoy had said, there was a darkness in Dakin's features that caused him to retract and converse elsewhere.

While it was inevitable that they meet, Harry was hoping he might explain things to Dakin before forcing Malfoy on him. Malfoy had been cordial and apologetic towards Harry, but he seriously doubted that it would be the same for Dakin. For some reason, those two hated each other with a passion that rivaled Malfoy and Harry's during Hogwarts.

Just before they reached the shop, a hand firmly wrapped around Harry's bicep, stalling him from his forward progress.

"I am aware of your relationship with the troll"—Harry tossed him a disapproving glance—"McClain," Malfoy corrected. "However, I think it wise to distance yourself if only slightly from him."

Harry shook his head with exasperation. "And for what reason, pray tell, do think that?" His voice had taken on a sarcastic note.

Malfoy hesitated. Harry suddenly felt very wary of the reasoning as he watched the other wizard work through what to say. It was very rare that Malfoy would be at a loss for words—Merlin knows that Malfoy could talk forever—so the mere fact that Malfoy was having trouble was alarming.

"Come on. Out with it," Harry finally demanded, hands having gone to his hips despite Malfoy's hold on his arm.

"His intentions towards you are not entirely sincere," Malfoy offered cryptically. Harry regarded the other wizard with a look. "He has ulterior motives for Merlin's sake, Potter!"

Harry chuckled. "Ulterior motives?" Harry nearly lost his footing while laughing. Ironically, Dakin had said the very same thing about Malfoy. Seemed that neither one of them had ulterior motives; rather, they had a warped sense of reality. "No, it's not possible. Dakin, without a doubt, is attracted to women—and women only."

Malfoy looked on sternly. "Just trust me, Potter. I have never been mistaken when it comes to these observations." Being the king of seduction, no doubt, Harry mused with a wry grin.

"Sure," Harry retorted with a knowing smile. "Look, I realize that you and Dakin will never be friends, but I expect at least common decency towards each other. And an apology," Malfoy looked ready to argue at this, but Harry quickly continued, "I don't care if you think you were right. Whatever you said to Dakin, it made him livid, and if this relationship between us is going to progress to the realm of friendship, you'll need to put up with my friends."

Malfoy looked absolutely revolted with the thought. "That's purely inhumane, Potter."

"And that's another thing. I think if we are attempting to _know each other better_ we should at least start with forenames, don't you think, _Draco_?"

There was a small spark in Malfoy's—no, Draco's—eyes when Harry said his forename.

Smirking, Malfoy replied smoothly, "Very well, _Harry_."

That aside, Harry disentangled himself from the other wizard and headed into the bookshop. Thankfully, Dakin hadn't gotten there yet. He had managed to ring Dakin earlier and explain he had gotten his car back and wouldn't need the usual ride to the grocery store. So they agreed to meet at their usual time at the shop.

Dakin had regressed to his slacker ways over the past week when he thought Draco was never to return. He never showed up on time anymore. Harry smiled, thanking Merlin for the small reprieve.

They set to their normal routine of Harry doing everything and Draco doing nothing. Harry sighed as he finally finished the opening duties. As he began to sit with his own book cradled to him—Tuesdays were often his slowest days—Draco finally looked up.

Their eyes met, and it felt electric. All the images from the week came flowing into Harry, causing his cheeks to suddenly feel very hot. Turning away, Harry tried to drown his thoughts in the book he chose. However, he could feel the penetrating gaze of his companion.

When he couldn't take it any longer, he looked up once more to the blue-gray eyes that regarded him with unmasked interest. "What?"

"Are you not curious as to why I waited an entire week to return?"

Harry thought shortly. "Nope," he lied as he set his eyes back to the book.

Actually, he was quite interested to find out why Draco had chosen to take an entire week to apologize but damned if he said so.

Draco crossed his arms against his broad chest, regarding Harry with a perplexed face. Perplexity turned quickly to discontent which then flowed right into brooding. Harry did his best to keep the smile from his face as Draco tried desperately to grasp Harry's lack of interest.

It was rather comical really. Harry sort of felt guilty for dropping Draco down a peg or two with the rejection.

"That is not possible. You must have been concerned," Draco mumbled to himself.

Poor bloke didn't take rejection well.

Harry's guilt finally forced him to end the charade. "Oh, fine!" he grumbled as he glance at the brooding Slytherin. "I may have been the tiniest bit concerned when you didn't show for a few days. However, I thought you were speaking with reporters, so I was getting my affairs in order to leave."

This piqued the blonde's interest. "Your affairs?"

"I was transferring the ownership of the shop to Dakin," Harry revealed nonchalantly.

Draco watched him with an unreadable expression; however the building storm in the blonde wizard's eyes caused a series of shudders through Harry's stiff frame. Why did Draco look so angry? What was he supposed to believe after not seeing the other wizard in over a week?

Despite that, Harry found himself explaining it. "I assumed you had gone to the media and wanted to make sure that Dakin received his father's shop when I left. I promised Peter that I would keep an eye on him."

Draco's eyes darkened further, but anything he might hope to say was cut off by the chiming of the door.

Dakin stormed inside the bookstore, eyes blazing at Draco so fiercely Harry worried they may just set fire to the Slytherin. Shooting out with very little thought, Harry immediately obstructed Dakin's path. The other man growled imperceptibly but stalled.

"He bloody well be here to collect some things he left behind," Dakin seethed through clenched jaws.

Harry heard the skirting of the chairs legs as Draco stood behind him, settling a hand on his shoulder and coming to stand beside him. Harry pressed hands into Dakin as he came forward. This wasn't going well at all. The air around them was heavy with the building wrath. It was only a matter of time before he was no longer able to hold the others at bay.

"I came to apologize," Draco stated, surprising both of them—Dakin probably the most.

The older wizard seemed less than willing to believe anything that Draco spouted but had ceased moving forward. Harry dropped his hands, breathing a sigh of relief as Draco continued to put light pressure on his shoulder.

"While I may not enjoy your company," Draco continued in an astoundingly calm voice, "Harry does. I will venture to be acquiescent towards you, if only just for his sake. Though there is little I regret saying to you," he voiced with superiority that caused Dakin's body to grow taut with rage, "I do believe it was done in a way that was rather disrespectful and will venture in the future not to do so."

Well, that was very…Draco-like, but it was enough for Harry. The true test was if that would suffice for Dakin. He watched his friend as the tautness of his body remained intact. He implored his friend with his eyes, but Dakin's were fixed on the hand still pressed to his shoulder.

After what could've been years by the way Harry felt, Dakin sighed with resignation. Harry knew it by the slow fall of the other man's shoulders, and the softening around his eyes. Dakin was giving up—at least for the moment. Harry wanted to cry out in victory but settled for smiling happily.

While Dakin never said anything, it was clear he would back off some; so Harry offered him the only sense of reprieve he could. "You can head home. I'll probably be closing today a bit early, so I can help with finding the book."

Dakin questioned him with a small look. However, his eyes then turned towards Draco who had once more taken his seat. After a severe gaze that was matched by the Slytherin, he turned once more towards Harry. "Don't make me regret letting him stay."

Without another word, Dakin left the shop and headed towards his car. The peel out was so loud it caused Harry's body to jolt. It was clear that the accord between Dakin and Draco was purely for his sake, but he was grateful that it hadn't turned violent.

"This is why I do not socialize with trolls," Draco proclaimed sardonically.

"Oh, shut it."

They planned to head to Galway that weekend; so over the next few days, Harry gathered as much information as he could, but it was still rather difficult to render anything from his efforts. He was almost inclined to ask about why Draco required this particular potion, but no doubt, the Ministry had a hand in it.

Harry threw another log into the fire, causing sparks of flame to erupt and a billowing of pungent smoke to explode from the hearth. The flames wrapped around the log, charring it and lapping at it as if they were alive and thirsty.

Draco sat on the sofa, leg crossed over and book cradled in one hand. The purely elegant posture was nearly lost as he delved deeper into his story. It had turned out that Draco quite liked the Lord of the Rings series and was now well into the second novel.

Harry took a seat on the floor, ignoring the way the wood bit into his rather unpadded bum. He had avoided any close proximity with Draco mainly because he didn't want to be tempted. For now, they had a cordial relationship in which most of their arguments were out of jest. Harry refused to ruin that with his confused emotions.

He still clearly remembered how quick Draco was to reject the very idea of being even somewhat attracted to Harry. That rejection resounded in him like a beating drum, pounding through his ears along with his heart to remind him that all of these growing feelings were no doubt unrequited.

His gaze became lazy as he watched the flames in silence, hearing only the soft slide of paper as Draco read through his novel. This calm that they had developed together was rather complacent. He would have never imagined that he would feel calm—and happy for that matter—around Draco Malfoy. But he was. He truly was.

He let his head fall back against the cushion open on the sofa. His eyes fluttered helplessly against the lull of sleep, but he was just too relaxed. Before he knew it, he had already succumbed to it.

It felt like a warm breeze, flowing and bathing over his face like the soft caress of a lover. He smiled as the warmth continued to bathe him in comfort. His lips felt chapped and dry, so he licked them. The moisture rejuvenated them long enough for something soft but oddly firm to press almost like a whisper against them. Harry tested the feeling, moving his head to chase after the sensation as it retreated.

The feeling came again before retreating once more, but not for long. Another touch but firmer against his lips. The feeling was familiar; but when it felt like he might just recognize it, it disappeared.

He wanted to chase the feeling—discover its meaning—but the slow embrace of darkness pulled him back into a deep slumber.

Harry startled awake, gazing up into the familiar ceiling. Looking around, Harry noticed that he was now in his bedroom. Joggling his memory, he desperately sought out how it came to be. He had fallen asleep in the living room. Did that mean Draco brought him in here?

Harry clamored out of his bed, noting that it was still the middle of the night, before heading towards the living room as silently as he could. Draco was asleep on the transformed sofa, eye lashes painted against angular cheek bones the color of snow.

While Draco was no doubt what would be referred to as beautiful, there was a definite masculinity in his face and body that caused a small hitch in Harry's breathing. Broad shoulders, barely concealed by the tight fitting black shirt he wore. It had surprised Harry to see Draco so…comfortably dressed. He half expected the other man to wear expensive silk pajamas, but it seemed even Draco chose comfort over chic when it came to sleep.

Draco had kicked most of the duvet from himself, exposing a sliver of abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. It was the same definition Harry had seen when he chose to parade half-naked through Harry's home that first week.

Harry truly envied the muscular tone to the Slytherin's body. While his light complexion and lithe frame were not normally associated with strength, it was evident that Draco toned his body to perfection and strength despite appearances.

Harry wanted to touch it. Explore it. Map out every contour and seek out any sort of imperfection that Draco might harbor. At this moment, Draco's body was flawless—irritatingly so.

The other wizard shifted, causing Harry to stiffen in surprise. Thankfully, it was merely done in the blonde wizard's sleep, but it had been warning enough. Harry shouldn't be standing here ogling Draco. He berated himself as he headed to the bathroom and attempted to calm his now very aroused body.

Harry's finger ran over his lips as he finished cooking their breakfast. If only he could remember the dream he had the night before. It felt like there was something important he was forgetting by not remembering the dream.

He idly played with his chapped lips as if that very action might bring it all to mind. It didn't. He couldn't remember. It felt important though.

Sighing, Harry plated the food and headed over to the table where Draco waited impatiently. Harry set the plate down before the blonde wizard, momentarily gazing at the soft, plump lips of his companion and idling wondering if they were as delicious as they looked.

Bloody hell. He was frustrated. He was also very much a virgin, so all knowledge of what came after sloppy adolescent kisses was beyond him.

Deciding that thinking on such things would only spell trouble for the rest of the day. They were once more attempting to head to Galway. He was sure that if he spent all morning fantasizing about Draco's body and lips—wondering how and what Draco did to his partners—he was sure to get them into an accident.

It was time to focus on the task at hand and not stray. He wasn't some bloody adolescent, fixing on his next opportunity to get shagged. He was an adult now.

Harry glanced once more at Draco, caught again by the small amount of moisture collection on the other wizard's lips. Shite. This was going to be a long couple of days.

TBC…

Hello everyone! Okay, so finally…we're getting somewhere! I really, really live for your guys reviews. You made me so happy with your comments. When you write these just so others can enjoy, it really warms the heart to see so many of you enjoying it. So thank you. Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six: Just A Kiss_

"And this," Draco stated with inflated confidence, "allows the car to fly should you find yourself so inclined."

"A flying car. Really?" Harry asked with disbelief.

Draco's eyes danced with pride. "The best money can buy."

"Oh," Harry breathed as he peered at the car, feeling the subtle hum of enchantment. "That's quite…elaborate. I really don't need all of this, Draco."

"It took close to a week to add most of the functions," Draco went on, ignoring Harry's discomfort. "The wizard enchanting it took his bloody time; even said the car was a model he was unfamiliar with." Draco continued on while Harry watched the soft twitches and movement along the perfect lines of the wizard's face.

It felt like Draco was relaxing a bit in his company as the day went on. They had been driving for an hour and that was the third time Draco had cursed. Harry had noticed the shift earlier when Draco attempted to show Harry just what had been done to the car.

A few functions were rather handy, but Harry truly believed that most were just outright useless. Like the massage mode; that was bloody outlandish. Draco had been so excited about it though, Harry had to appear to really enjoy it.

While the car had vibrated like some sort of earthquake, Draco had peered over at Harry with a mischievous grin exclaiming, "Bloody brilliant, isn't it?" And having been taken by surprise by the purely innocent smile Draco had given way to, Harry could only nod in agreement despite his body and head thinking quite the opposite.

They finally stopped for a bit in Claremorris. Draco had been so absorbed in his speech about the reason behind his choosing each and every function that he had barely complained the entire drive. It was sort of nice how Draco could prattle on without realizing it—rather skillfully.

Harry had been caught a time or two staring at the blonde wizard's face as it transformed from one expression to another as if a collage of emotion was being displayed at leisure speed. However, mostly, Draco remained with a boastful sort of smirk hanging on the side of his mouth—as if moments from smiling but never truly allowing himself. It was all rather enchanting.

Harry pulled into a small parking area along the street, deciding it best to eat their lunch before continuing to Galway. He had book a couple rooms at one of the hotels there; so as soon as they arrived, they would need to check-in and settled a few things before meeting with his acquaintance.

Claremorris had a collection of shops and eateries along one street, so Harry decided to walk the short distance and take a breather as he did. Draco seemed less inclined. Actually, after they had gotten out of the car, Draco had did a twice over before looking at Harry with bemusement.

"Is this it?"

Harry glanced over to him. "Is this what?"

"Galway?" Draco inquired, looking about before once more at Harry. "It is much smaller than I imagined."

Harry chuckled softly. "No, this is Claremorris. I figured you would be hungry. We still have another hour until we get to Galway."

"Hm," Draco mused as he followed Harry into a small restaurant. "Are all the towns in Ireland so small?"

"I thought you've been here on business?"

Draco stiffened at the accusation before returning to his usual aloof demeanor. "I have. I do not travel around this dismal place in such a way, however. Most of my business is in the larger cities."

"Well, I guess that makes sense," Harry stated absently before turning towards Draco with a small smile. "You traveled to my small town though which is about twenty kilometers from Sligo…for books was it?"

Draco's pale face flushed just slightly under his eyes. "That was different, Potter!"

"Harry," he corrected with a wry grin. "And was it? Seemed like you were sightseeing to me."

"I was merely bored," Draco explained in a desperate attempt to redeem himself. "There was time in between appointments, so I merely visited the bookshop out of curiosity. Nothing more."

"You had other appointments? But…" Harry thought back. Draco had never mentioned another appointment and had stayed with him several days after finding that he could use him as blackmail. "You stayed with me for several days and never mentioned any other appointment nor did you leave my side."

Draco's eyes widened slightly, jaw working, before he turned away and acknowledged their surroundings with interest. "Must all the places you take me to dine be so run down?"

Harry wouldn't be deceived though. "Now that I think of it. There is a much larger shop just right in Sligo with a much better selection. How did you come to finding my little shop? Not many would have told you, so it would be presumable that you would have to lower yourself to speaking with _many_ muggles."

His brain was working, attempting to puzzle together how Draco could have possibly and randomly chosen Harry's bookshop. It was rather odd that in six years, no one from that life he had run away from had come even close to finding him. How was it then that Draco Malfoy on chance found him?

Draco looked awestricken—incapable of denying it further. Harry wanted to strike some sort of victory pose, but he instead put all of his emotion into his body and face; he would not let Draco weasel his way out of this one. Something didn't make sense, and Harry would get to the bottom of it.

Draco seemed to comprehend that Harry would be unmovable on the issue, so as if a balloon releasing its air, he deflated: shoulders slumping, eyes dropping, and hand cradling his chin in silent contemplation on how to explain it further.

"There was a rumor," Draco started, fixing his eyes once more on Harry.

"A rumor?"

"That you were not dead; actually, quite the opposite. You were thriving," Draco stated noncommittally. "Purely out of curiosity, I investigated the matter."

Harry's face drew down in contemplation. "There was a rumor. Where? From whom?"

"No one in particular. It had been featured in the Daily Prophet," Draco stated nonchalantly, appearing to be suddenly very interested in his cuticles. "Although, there was really no basis for the article, it had seemed there might be a source. An acquaintance of mine in the Irish government had stated that there may be a person matching your description when I delved further. It had seemed rather outlandish to think that Harry Potter would be living a muggle life; but I was in town, so I had decided it was at least worth the look."

"So…how did you find me at the bookshop then?"

"An old man who smelt heavily of alcohol and filth mentioned you in passing," Draco stated coolly. "He mentioned another with an accent similar to my own and told me where to find you."

Probably Old Tom O'Flannigan. That man had an odd obsession with accents—and Harry for that matter. He wanted to grumble a bit about it, but he was more curious by Draco's interest in finding him. Harry wasn't daft. He knew that Draco was making it seem as though he had very little interest when Harry knew better.

"So then you found me?"

"Yes," Draco answered simply.

"And then decided you would blackmail me to help find a book you were looking for?"

Draco's mask dropped and guilt resurfaced where confidence and nonchalance had once been. "I…yes."

"But I'm curious," Harry went on, ignoring the pang in his chest. "Why search for someone you hate? Were you hoping to get leverage on me? Vengeance?"

Draco's eyes darkened and face went sour at Harry's accusation. "I might be horrid, Potter, but I would never seek vengeance of the one person who freed my family from that snake of a man."

The expression on Draco's face and whipping of his magic through the air at the heightened emotions caused a small quake to take hold of Harry's body. He suddenly felt very guilty for accusing Draco, even though it was understandable to assume as much.

Their relationship at Hogwarts, while not as horrid the final year as all the years before it, was hardly one that he would every believe could develop into camaraderie—let alone a serious friendship. So while he had every reason to assume that it wasn't beneath the Slytherin, he felt guilty for posing it so openly after everything that had transpired between them.

"Sorry," Harry finally apologized. "I realize that was said in bad taste. I know you've made efforts towards amity between us and that sort of accusation is unfounded."

Draco relaxed back into his chair. "No, it is understandable you would presume as much. While I cannot deny that there was considerable ill feeling towards your person when I started this venture, none of it was done out of vengeance."

That had been the most honest the other wizard had been up until that point, and Harry appreciated the great efforts Draco was making towards keeping the amity between them. He smiled brightly and nodded his understanding before their food arrived, and the conversation faded away.

They arrived at the hotel in Galway central just shortly after two, having no other uncomfortable conversations along the way. While Draco had, true to his nature, complained about the endless driving and dribble of cities with very little to offer along the way, it had been a pleasant venture—much more pleasant their first attempt.

Harry checked in at the front when he was suddenly struck by the appearance of another he never hoped to see.

"Rita Skeeter," Harry breathed. "Shite."

He turned towards the receptionist quickly as Draco eased around him, heading for the reporter and leading her away from Harry. The receptionist took his payment before handing him the key cards, and he rushed off, hoping that Skeeter had come alone.

He heard her surprised cry in the distance. "Draco Malfoy, what a surprise to see you here! Are you here on business? Or…is it pleasure?"

Harry didn't wait to hear what Draco's reply would be and waited, hiding himself so that he would be out of sight.

After nearly fifteen minutes, Draco came and found him, straining a smile before tossing Harry an exasperated look. "That witch is bloody persistent."

"Shite," Harry cursed before taking his mobile from his pocket. Draco stalled him with a hand. "What?"

"Allow me to sort out the details," Draco stated coolly before heading towards the desk after taking the key cards from Harry's hand. When he returned, he had a singular card in his hand and motioned for the elevator. "Shall we?"

Harry's eyebrow rose in question but followed anyway. They headed up to the second floor, the loud ding of the elevator alerting them, before heading down the corridor.

"Are you planning to stay? I think I should probably go elsewhere," Harry mumbled more to himself.

Draco smirked at him knowingly before stopping at a door and inserting the key card. The room was much more spacious than what Harry had booked for himself. He followed the other wizard inside and noticed that there was a large receiving room before another door led to the bedroom and large, expansive lavatory.

"A suite?"

"Another benefit to our friendship," Draco stated boastfully. "That horrid woman knows I will be staying here; she will presumably do her snooping into my affairs now that I am here. As it is too sudden to check-out or receive assistance, we will stay in this room for a day before seeking another to stay."

Harry realized what Draco was insinuating. "Together?"

"Yes."

Harry slouched in defeat. His hormones were already difficult to manage. The very idea of sharing a room like this—possibly a bed—made Harry's pulse race unlike it had any other time before this. No. He couldn't possibly handle this in his current state.

"I am sure I can sneak away later and find a place to stay," Harry thought out loud. "I can meet you tomorrow after you have effectively deceived Skeeter."

"As clever as you may think that notion, you have no potions to hide your identity; and while we had been fortunate earlier that she did not recognize you, she will no doubt be looking as to why I am in Galway."

"Why?" Harry thought it a little odd that Skeeter would be tailing Draco.

Draco breathed out his frustration. "She has been recently investigating my activity. The week away was not only in an effort to upgrade your car, Harry. I was thwarting the media's attention on my person. It would seem that there was a leak of information about my staying here. They believe I have…taken a lover."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"My attraction for wizards is no longer a secret," Draco drawled simply, "and many of the current media interest is to find my current and past lovers."

"Fuck," Harry breathed.

"My sentiments exactly," Draco concurred. "So, until tomorrow, I am afraid that we will need to remain in this suite."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked reproachfully.

Draco smirked without amusement. "I did. You were uninterested in the reason behind my absence for the week that I was away."

"Oh," Harry gasped, realizing that must have been why Draco was so persistent about the issue. "So you were dealing with reporters?"

"Yes."

"So, if you knew they would follow you to Ireland, why did you come?" Harry inquired angrily. "You led them right to me."

"I was careful, _Potter_ ," Draco growled. "I am still rather perplexed myself on how Rita Skeeter managed to find my location. Although, she seems to have believed I was in Galway rather than Sligo. Regardless, it hardly matters anymore. We will need to be especially careful."

"Maybe it would be better to head back to Sligo," Harry wondered as he took a seat in an armchair.

Draco's face hardened. "Absolutely not. I rode the entire way here in that infernal motor vehicle, so we will be doing exactly what we have come for. I am a constant source of gossip, Harry," Draco stated arrogantly while referring once more to Harry intimately. "I am quite capable of taking care of Skeeter."

"But—"

"We will do what we have come to do," Draco interjected firmly, "and then, and only then, will we return to Sligo. I have business that will take me away in a few days' time, so I will be unable to reschedule another trip—even if I was so inclined to which I am not."

Harry heaved a great sigh, feeling that he was really just pushing an issue that wouldn't budge. "Fine. You know, I can do most of this myself. There really is no need for you to _force_ yourself to come along."

"And miss out on the opportunity to cause you discomfort by my mere presence," Draco taunted with another smirk. "I think not."

"You're a right bastard," Harry returned with his own smile. "I guess since you got us into this mess, it's probably best that I let you get us out of it."

"See, now you are using that head of yours," Draco retorted. "And here I thought it was merely a very large, unseemly decoration for your shoulders."

"You've been getting away with insulting me for some time now," Harry started as he rose from the chair and came at the other. "Best to teach you why you should keep that pretty mouth of yours shut…"

Harry went to grab at Draco who easily side-stepped out of the way, and instead wrapped around Harry, pushing him firmly into the wall. "Oh, Harry, you think I have a pretty mouth?" the other wizard taunted before releasing Harry. "Your reflexes are lacking greatly. Living as a muggle as made you weak."

"Bastard," Harry growled but couldn't help the small smile. "I could easily beat you in a duel, any day."

"I doubt that seriously," Draco retorted with an amused smirk.

Harry righted his shirt that had ridden up in their skirmish. "So I'm stuck with you for an entire day…in here? If you weren't a bloody flirt, I could be out there seeing the sights."

Draco sneered, but his eyes glinted with amusement. "Just because I am desirable by most does not make me a flirt, Potter."

"Are you sure about that? Throw themselves at you, do they?"

Draco smiled brilliantly, startling Harry momentarily before answering. "While I will not deny the fact that I am well sought after, I have particular tastes and do not simply bugger anyone that will have me."

"How modest of you," Harry retorted sarcastically before taking a seat and turning on the telly.

Actually, his body reacted to every word, every confident movement that Draco made. His chest hurt, stomach twisted, and skin crawled as Draco talked so openly about sex. It was clear that Draco was much, much more experienced than Harry—hardly hard to be when Harry was a virgin—but it made his chest feel tight when he thought about it.

Despite not wanting to know the details, he was curious—hurting himself further by taunting Draco to reveal the nature of his conquests. He didn't want to know. The fact that Draco had been with others—probably many others—hurt so much it felt like his heart would give out.

Harry focused on the television, feeling the prickle of tears as he did. Bloody hell. He was starting to act like some love-sick witch.

Draco had set up a make-shift potion-brewing station right there in their suite. He had mentioned that since they would be forced to stay inside all day, there were a few potions in need of brewing, so he set out to do just that.

Harry, on the other hand, watched with rapture as Draco flowed over the table he had transformed, chopping, dicing, mincing the ingredients and with practiced ease, added them to his cauldron. The smells were less than enticing, but the very visage of this blonde wizard doing his chosen craft was alarmingly arousing.

Harry shifted in his seat, suddenly wishing he had brought some sort of novel to read. To be honest, he was sure that they wouldn't need to be in Galway for long, so he hadn't packed much in line of entertainment.

Deciding that food would be a good distraction from his wandering eyes, Harry picked up the receiver and ordered to eat in. When the food arrived, Harry took care to make the activity his sole focus. Draco had remained near his cauldron, only looking over once when the food had arrived.

"You should eat something," Harry called out when he finished.

Draco sighed deeply. "I will once I am finished with the initial brew."

Harry's eyes traveled the long line of the other wizard's back, noting the strained muscle shifting in Draco's shoulder blades. He never imagined that Draco would look so…muscular. It was alarming actually how the once skinny build of his former nemesis had transformed into this sinewy, wiry build that suited only the most athletic wizards.

While Draco needed to hone some of his confidence in, it was undeniable that the other wizard was desirable.

Harry looked down at his much smaller build. While he wasn't entirely devoid of muscle tone, most of his was softened as opposed to the hard lines and definition that Draco harbored. No matter how much he worked the muscle to tone it, his body simply stayed this same softly toned physique.

Still, he wondered what Draco would feel like if he were to run his hands down the bare naked flesh of his body. Would it feel hard? Silky? Soft?

Harry nearly groaned as his thoughts once more went wayward. Being in this room, alone, with nothing else to occupy his thought wasn't helping him at all. If anything, his mind was running rampant with impure thoughts—thoughts that one should never have for a friend.

Harry wasn't attractive like Draco. He wasn't even in the same realm when it came to attraction. Aside from the fact that he was not only inexperienced with men, but inexperienced with sex all together made him even more unattractive to someone like Draco that was probably used to having the very best.

Lovers. Was Draco originally here because of a lover? Harry wondered. However, those thoughts were making the tightness return to his chest, and his stomach harden causing a very queasy feeling to grow.

Swallowing around the building lump in his throat, Harry focused on the television, hoping to find something that may, even just momentarily, take him away from his own thoughts.

Harry had been watching an array of shows for distraction, and finally, it was time to sleep. Turning off the television, Harry began to transform the armchair, lengthening and widening it enough to sleep on before retrieving his usual bedtime things.

"What are you doing?"

Harry looked up from his suitcase. "I thought I'd head to bed. Why?"

"But why there?" Draco asked while pointing to the transformed chair.

Harry regarded him with a confused look. "Well, seeing as this is your suite, I thought it only fair to give you the bed. Besides, you have been sleeping on my sofa for some time now. I think you deserve to sleep on the bed at least while we're in Galway."

Draco watched him before shaking his head. "Take the bed, Harry. Due to circumstances surrounding myself, we are in this predicament."

That was very kind of Draco—also, very unlike the other wizard—but Harry refused with a shake of his head. "No, thanks. You take it."

He heard the frustrated growl as he headed for the bathroom. When he resurfaced to head towards the armchair-bed, he was grabbed by the arm and thrown down onto the true bed in the suite.

"We will share it then," Draco stated evenly as he immediately threw off his shirt, leaving him only in a set of comfortable trousers.

Harry's eyes nearly came from the sockets as the other wizard easily pushed him to one side and then proceeded to lay down beside him.

Draco regarded him with a look. "Look, I've said this before, but I will say it again. I will not attack you, especially in your sleep."

"I know," Harry rasped, pulling away as far as he could go without being off the bed. "I'm not your type. I…just—uh—I'm not used to this sort of thing."

"Sleeping with a man?" Draco offered with an amused smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes. "With anyone, you prat." Draco's eyebrow lifted. "I've never slept with anyone before."

"Am I correct to assume that you mean that in a sexual way?" There was no hiding the interest now set on the other wizard's face. "What about Ginny Weasley…or Cho Chang? Were you not at some point involved with them?"

"Well," Harry started a bit uncomfortable with the topic but finding he couldn't help answering. "I mean, I've kissed them…"

Draco seemed to understand what Harry was having trouble saying. "You are a virgin then?"

Heat crept into Harry's cheeks as he desperately tried to answer without stuttering. "Yes."

"Did you like it?"

Harry looked at Draco in perplexity. "Like what?"

"Snogging them."

Harry swallowed roughly. If he was honest, it may mean acknowledging what he was already starting to discover about himself. However, there was a worry that he would be condemned for it, or even discovered by the very source of this newfound part of himself. Harry was hesitating for too long before Draco eased forward.

"Did you like kissing them?" he inquired again.

Harry worried his voice would crack, so instead, he shook his head.

"Have you ever kissed a wizard, Harry?"

His heart was nearly crashing into his chest as he watched Draco, chest exposed and within perfect distance for touching. Licking his lips, Harry shook his head again.

Never would you think that a man, supposedly twenty-four years of age, would be acting in such a way. However, he couldn't help it. The mere situation he now found himself was frightening. Why did Draco ask? What were his intentions once knowing?

It all swirled through him as his pulse raced, throbbing and pounding painfully in his ears. His hands grew clammy, twitching against his thighs as he laid stiffly facing Draco. Heat suffused his body like a hot iron, growing more intensely as time ticked by.

Draco watched him silently, eyes traveling his face as if in search of something. Finally, those perfect lips opened, asking, imploring him sweetly with the words Harry was almost afraid to hear. "Would you like to try it?"

Harry's eyes closed as the words ran through him, coiling and spiraling inside his head like a great tornado.

Merlin. He wanted to. Just to lean forward, taste those lips and discover what he had most desired to know these weeks they had been together. Would they yield softly against him, or would the press firmly, dominatingly into his, deriving pleasure no other had done before?

Harry didn't know. Didn't know if he wanted to know. If he tried this, would it solidify these growing feelings inside him to the point where he could no longer pretend?

Harry's eyes opened to those regarding him in interest. The blue-gray was blown out almost entirely by Draco's pupils. What did it mean? Harry remembered reading about the pupils somewhere but couldn't seem to remember when he most needed to.

Draco eased forward, leaving their faces inches apart. "Did you want to try it, Harry?" the other wizard whispered huskily.

Harry was finding it hard to breathe as he thought about the consequences to both sides of answering. "I-I'm not sure," he finally answered breathlessly. "I don't think it's a good idea," he added with his eyes cast down.

"It's just a kiss, Harry," Draco stated evenly. "Nothing you need to worry needlessly over. If you do not like it, then we will stop." Harry felt the soft touch of a hand to his shoulder, causing him to jerk beneath the suddenness of the touch. "Consider it an experiment."

Harry pulled away from the touch and fixed his gaze on the other. "I can't just pretend a kiss is nothing. I'm not like that. I've spent years not doing anything at all to disregard a kiss as nothing." He suddenly felt offended and turned around, facing away from Draco. "Let's just go to sleep."

"Harry," the other voice whispered.

"Don't," Harry whispered back, worried he might start crying if Draco persisted. "Let's just forget we ever had this conversation."

"It was not my intention to offend you," Draco persisted.

Harry bit his lower lip, disgusted with the prickle of tears at the side of his eyes. "I know," he managed. "Let's just go to sleep," he continued desperately. "Please," he finally got out as a tears streamed hotly from his eyes.

Draco may think a kiss was nothing, but Harry didn't. He had seriously wanted to kiss the other wizard, but where would that get him? What answer could he hope to discover that wouldn't disintegrate his already weakened resolve?

If he kissed Draco now, he would surely be heartbroken by it.

After minutes of tears, Harry finally succumbed to sleep.

TBC…

So first, I would like to say thank you so much to those of you who have continued to offer feedback every chapter. I write fast when I think others are enjoying it. Seeing your reviews definitely helps get the chapters done faster. Secondly, this chapter surprised me to…my characters write themselves sometimes so that's how you got this chapter. Until next time!


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven: Said In So Many Words_

Fingers skimmed the subtle lines of Harry's body, tracing, mapping, exploring them as if they all led somewhere. The firm body behind him pressed harder into him, wrapping him tightly into it, imprisoning him in the embrace.

Harry's eyes shot open when he realized the touch wasn't a dream but rather, in fact, his reality—and currently, a definite predicament. His brain was groggy with the remnants of sleep as he attempted to figure out how and why he was currently being held in someone's arms; more importantly, whose arms.

Turning his head, Harry caught sight of pale hair falling over the curve of his shoulder which was now raised almost like hackles on an animal from fright.

Okay. It was simple. Draco had embraced him in his sleep. He could just…somehow maneuver his body from the embrace and act like nothing happened.

Hips thrusted into his backside, unfortunately reminding him of a dream he once had. No—rather, fantasy he had about the very person now doing it. Oh Merlin, it felt so good. Better than it had in his fantasy. He could feel the hardness pressing into the cleft of his arse as Draco continued to rut against him.

Maybe Draco was used to having his bed partners willing for morning romps?

After the night before, Harry was less than inclined to take advantage of Draco. He had almost been tempted to as the sensation of hands teasing him both under and over his shirt continued. Fingers scratched along his sensitive waistline as if knowing every particularly pleasurable place on his body. That alone was reason enough to stop this before it had gone too far.

Harry's body was already fully responding, hips sliding up against the others invitingly even as he decided to end this. He couldn't help it. The sensations were intoxicating, causing his hips to work almost as if they had a will of their own.

However, Harry refused to get off knowing that he would have to face Draco as soon as he realized Harry was not just some random bed partner.

Fighting his desires, Harry pulled away as much as he could. However, the arms holding him barely yielded. The strength was surprising as he fought to remove himself from Draco's hold on him. Gods. Was Draco made of steel?

Turning over—as he had no other option—Harry pressed his hands firmly into Draco's naked chest and pushed, hoping the effort would get him out of the vice-like hold.

Lashes fluttered and arms weakened as Draco stirred. Harry wanted to watch, already entranced by the soft beauty of his companions face, but he knew this would be his only opportunity to remove himself without fully alerting Draco.

Dislodging from the arms around him, Harry used a bit more strength than necessary and went flying backwards—and right off the bed. His head connected with the floor as his legs flew out above him. The loud sound apparently startled the sleeping wizard because Draco was immediately up and peering over the side.

"You alright there, Harry?"

Harry laid, vision swaying slightly as the image of Draco danced above him. "Just dandy."

Draco offered him a hand, and because he was still fighting the dizzy feeling, Harry took it and was helped back up on the bed to face the reason for falling out of it. The blonde looked absolutely breathtaking with his chest bare, muscles straining as he helped Harry situated to the bed, hair a mess and eyes glistening with tears from yawning.

Dear Merlin. He was in trouble. Harry rubbed a hand over his face in frustration as he attempted to calm his wayward body.

"Did you have a nightmare?" the other wizard questioned, causing Harry's hand to fall away. He watched the devilish smirk fill the Slytherin's face as eyes traveled downwards to the tent in his trousers. "Or…not perhaps?"

Harry took the pillow he had used to sleep with, and without warning, slammed it right in the prat's face. Draco chuckled as he fought off the pillow and threw it to the side. Harry couldn't help smiling as the earlier tension melted away into good humor.

"You're a right bastard," he said affectionately.

Draco's eyes sparked happily. "Do you not mean, a sexy bastard? Most desirable—" Harry slammed another pillow into the snarky bastard's face, chuckling with he nearly sent the blonde off the bed.

Standing up, Harry headed towards the bathroom to get ready for the day—and rid himself of his little problem in his trousers.

Thankfully, they were able to avoid being found out by Rita Skeeter. Draco had contacted a few people to help hide his current (and previous) whereabouts. She was also the only reporter that had followed him out there, but Harry wasn't taking any risks. He paid for everything in cash, avoiding any possible trail she could follow.

After ringing his acquaintance, they met him downtown and started their search for the book he thought they were looking for.

The little bookshop had many books, some rare and old written from other countries, but none of them were what Draco was looking for. After exhausting the lead, Harry and Draco headed back to Sligo.

"Seems I've wasted your time again," Harry grumbled as he drove.

Draco shook his head absently. "This is a natural course of events especially with a book as rare as this. It was worth the look."

Harry appreciated how amiable Draco was. He—however—was rather frustrated they still hadn't found it. He was starting to wonder if it really was still in Ireland. Draco had mentioned that he had other associates looking into the matter, but so far, no one had found the book they sought.

"I've been wondering," Harry started as he kept his eyes on the road. "Why is it that you need this potion? Is it for the Ministry?"

Silence followed his question. Daring a glance, he looked over to Draco. The blonde had turned away, but the reflection in the window spoke greatly of the reason for the silence. There was a sadness there that alarmed Harry. He wanted to know more, but that face caused him to hesitate.

He backtracked quickly. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter. We will find it."

"My mother," Draco started before his face trailed off. He cleared his throat before starting again, "My mother is ill. There is a cure, but the only recipe for the potion is found in that book."

"Draco," Harry breathed sympathetically. "I—"

"The illness is rare," Draco continued in a strained voice. "The last known case was a century ago; this book was the last record of the cure."

"How long has she been ill?" Harry fought to keep his voice even.

Draco breathed softly. "She started to become ill six years ago. Shortly after you disappeared. Healers thought it was nothing to worry over. However, in the last few years, her condition has worsened. Finally, they identified the reason this year. I have been searching since then to find the cure."

Harry nodded. "We will find it. I'll do all I can to help."

Draco finally looked at him. He wasn't crying, but the rimming around his eyes was red enough that he very well could at any moment. "I really was surprised when I found you here. I…it was never my intention to blackmail you to get to the book, but I sincerely needed your help. I thought that if I asked without any sort of leverage, you would never have helped."

Harry wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. The animosity they had for each other was rather severe. He may not have helped in the beginning; although, if he had known the reason, he may have. Harry wanted to believe that, but it mattered little now.

Now he genuinely wanted to assist Draco; not because he felt obligated to, but as a friend.

"We will find it," he repeated a bit more firmly.

Draco nodded but said nothing further as they finished their drive back to Sligo.

Harry rubbed at his temples with frustration. After another visit to the city, he still hadn't found out much more than what they already knew. He had spoken with the head of the McEvoy family, but it seemed it was a misrepresented rumor that they had ever had a book like that.

Harry wanted to find the book more than ever now that he knew they were racing against time. He had sought every lead as soon as they returned, but every time he felt on the edge of somewhere, it would drop out beneath him, leaving him right where they started.

Draco sat beside him on the sofa, watching him silently before touching him lightly on the shoulder. "I know that the circumstances are dire, but you should not worry yourself over it."

"I'm not," Harry lied. "My head just hurts. Tylenol will fix it right up." Draco's eyebrow rose. "It's a muggle medicine for headaches."

"A potion?"

"A pill," Harry corrected with a smile. Draco looked repulsed by the idea. "It's actually way nicer than our potions. I can take it and not have to taste it in my mouth for the rest of the day."

"It still sounds utterly undesirable," Draco retorted with the crossing of his arms.

Harry laughed at the childish display. "Don't dock it until you try it, Draco. You might find you like it better."

"Doubt it."

Harry shrugged with a lazy smile before standing and stretching. "I should probably go to bed. I have to be at the shop tomorrow. You can take the bed tonight."

"Shall I simply expand your rooms and add another bed?" Draco asked seriously.

Harry pretended to be insulted. "Are you saying you don't like my house? How dare you."

"It is in need of serious decoration," Draco mused seriously.

"Hey," Harry said, pushing the Slytherin's shoulder jokingly. "You're a right bastard."

"Don't you mean, sexy bastard?" Draco returned with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Then shall I expand the rooms?" Draco took out his wand before Harry had a chance to stop him.

Harry sighed. "No, others have seen my house. If it suddenly expands, they'll notice. You take the bed, I'll stay out on the sofa."

Draco sighed before re-pocketing his wand. "I feel like we have had this argument before," the other wizard stated angrily. "It is my intention to stay until the book is found. If you truly insist on not surrendering to an expanded household, then our only other option is to share the bed." Harry was about to argue, but the other wizard raised a hand. "I will not touch you. You have my word."

That wasn't Harry's problem. Harry grumbled to himself before weighing his options. Risk the expansion of his house—the magic would be difficult to reverse should he decide to—or share a bed with a man he harbored an impure attraction to? Neither option appealed to him.

Harry glanced up at the other wizard. Draco had crossed his arms self-importantly against his chest appearing regal, as if he intended to rule only under those two options.

"What about you stay—"

"Those are your options, Potter."

Harry cursed. "Fine! We'll expand the rooms!"

Draco smirked before his eyes narrowed on Harry. "You know, I think I like it better to share a bed with the savior of the wizarding world."

"You're a right bastard," Harry growled and cut off Draco as soon as he looked about ready to correct him. "It seems you've forgotten you are living in _my_ home, under _my_ rules."

Draco laughed mirthlessly. "I am a Malfoy. Malfoys live under no one's rule."

"Well that's about to change," Harry countered with a smirk.

Draco's body stiffened with the challenge. "Oh? How does the great savior intend to make me yield?"

Oh, Harry had his ways. Closing the distance in three short strides, Harry attacked Draco in the best way he knew how—with a good old fashion tickling.

It was rather humorous how Harry found out the tall prat was ticklish. In his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry had stumbled on quite the scene that he now wondered if was actually a friendly tickle fight between fellow Sytherins, or in fact, lovers? He didn't care to know from the way his chest tightened at the very notion of lovers.

However, it was his best line of defense against a friend who was suffering in much of the same ways Harry had in his youth. Besides, it was distracting from the fact that Harry was very close to yielding to the blonde wizard.

Somehow though, in the midst of his thinking, he was now on the sofa underneath a brutal assault of fingers. Harry fought the laughter bubbling up, but it burst from him, echoing off the walls as he attempted to escape.

"Like I said," Draco spoke breathlessly as he continued to tickle Harry an inch within his life. "Your reflexes are lacking…greatly."

"I give!" Harry finally cried out when it became too much. "I give!"

Draco stopped tickling him but continued to pin him down by straddling his thighs. "Then you will sleep with me?"

Harry's heart stopped. He attempted to restart his brain. Draco didn't mean it like that. Speak, Harry, speak. "Uh…I'll share the bed with you," he stated breathlessly. "Now get off. You're heavy."

Draco smiled triumphantly. "Your efforts would have been successful if you were not so weak."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry replied as he attempted to get his breathing back to normal. "You're—"

"A right bastard," Draco finished with a dazzlingly smile. "I know."

Harry had finished his usual nightly routine before finding Draco in his bed—waiting for him. Harry fought to remain aloof as he slipped in beside the other wizard and turned out the lights. He faced his back towards Draco, trying his best to appear as if nothing was different from any other night. You know, aside from the object of his desires being in his bed.

The bed creaked as Draco eased down beside him. Harry felt the soft touch of hot air to the exposed skin on the nape of his neck. Harry closed his eyes tightly, ignoring the hitch in his breathing. Minutes passed as he felt the continuous hot breathing on his nape.

A hand touched his hip slightly before clasping it gently and causing Harry to gasp, body jolting with surprise.

"You said—"

"What if I said I wanted to kiss you," Draco's voice was husky, eliciting delightful shivers to splay out over his skin.

Harry stiffened, inadvertently painting himself against Draco and causing the other wizard to groan with surprise. The hand on his hip tightened before pulling Harry more into Draco's frame.

"Draco," Harry gasped as his body started to respond, pumping blood through his veins and causing heat to rush to his face. "You promised…"

"Do you want to try it?" Draco interject. "You might like it."

"I don't want to experiment," Harry growled.

The hand on his hip ate into his skin before jerking him and forcing him onto his back. Draco was immediately hovering over him, gazing at him with shadows playing across his face. It was hard to see much in the dark, but Harry could just make out the intensity in Draco's face. This wasn't a game. This was serious. He was serious.

"I want to kiss you," Draco stated in a low voice.

Harry was having difficulty breathing again. "Why…I thought I wasn't…you said I wasn't your type."

Please. Let this not be a dream. Oh Merlin, he would want to die if this were another one of his fantasies.

Draco leaned down, breathing hotly onto Harry. "Harry," was all he whispered before pressing his lips gently to Harry's.

It all happened at once. Shock from the touch shot down his body from where they touched, causing his hands to clasp into the bedding and body to arch into the touch. His eyes closed while his voice groaned. Lips brushed almost hesitantly against his own before settling in a confident rhythm, coaxing his own to follow the Slytherin's lead.

It was electric. And sensual. And everything Harry could possibly hope from a first kiss.

His hands found their way up and around Draco's broad back, pulling the other wizard's weight into his own. A tongue twined with his own, eliciting a startled gasp from Harry's throat. Heat coursed through his body, ran through his veins, and ignited his soul for more. It felt like his was on fire.

He wanted it to never end. As inexperienced as he was, his mouth moved with a brutality and confidence he otherwise shouldn't have. He wanted to consume Draco with his mouth alone. He grew more daring as the kiss continued, sliding his tongue invitingly against Draco's, groaning when Draco reciprocated by following it and dominating the kiss.

Hands slid insistently under his night shirt, forcing the material up to expose his chest. Harry startled under the touch. He immediately pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he thrust down his shirt and ceased everything entirely.

"We…this…" Harry fumbled as he nearly fell off the bed in his scramble backwards. "This can't happen. We can't."

He continued to ramble as he pulled on his coat and fled the house. His mind was foggy as he started his car and raced towards Dakin's flat. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he drove, wishing he hadn't let it all happen. Draco had done this. Plenty of times. Kissing, sex, having illicit affairs were nothing for Draco.

Harry—however—was madly in love with him.

Tears continued to rush hotly down his cheeks. He had kissed him and found out that his desires exceeded lust. He wanted Draco not simply to have him. He wanted all of Draco. The mere idea of kissing someone that didn't reciprocate those feelings. It hurt. It felt like his chest was caving in, making breathing incredibly difficult.

He gasped and sobbed as he finally arrived at Dakin's flat. Stumbling out of the car, clad only in his pajamas, Harry headed to the door and knocked, hoping and praying that Dakin would be home.

The door opened to a groggy, rather angry looking Dakin. That expression changed immediately when he took in Harry's state.

"What—"

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Uh," Dakin started in confusion.

"Please. Can I…just tonight, I promise?"

Dakin pulled him inside. "Of course. Always. Come on, I'll get you something warm, and you can tell me what happened."

"Come on, Harry," Dakin said for the fifth time as Harry laid on the floor, blind to anything around him. "You have to tell me what happened. What has got you so upset? Is it…did that prissy boy do something to you?"

"No!" Harry immediately cried. "I mean, it's not something he did. It's all me. I…"

"You what?" Dakin urged with a gentle voice.

Harry's eyes burnt with tears again. It was all his fault. He should have been more persistent with refusing Draco. He should have never allowed that kiss to happen. "I…it's just not his fault, okay?"

Dakin looked unconvinced but nodded. "Okay, I won't ask anymore. How about we put on a movie?"

Harry was grateful for the distraction and nodded.

"Where is he?" a voice growled as Harry faded into consciousness.

"How do you know where I live?"

"Does it matter, troll? Show me to Harry."

"How about…no."

There was a bang, causing Harry to jerk fully away. Dakin stood frozen at the doorway as Malfoy strolled in purposefully towards Harry. He jerked him from the floor, pulling him instantly towards the door. "We need to talk."

"Draco," Harry gasped as he was pulled through the door. He hadn't taken his wand when he fled, so there was no fighting back especially in his stupor. It felt like the world was weighing on him as his head pounded. "What are you doing here?" He blinked at the brightness of morning.

"We will discuss that once we have returned home," Draco hissed as he helped Harry into the car, surprisingly gentle while he did, and proceeded to head towards Harry's home.

"Whoa!" Harry cried when he realized Draco was driving. "Wait, do you even know how to drive?!"

"Of course I bloody do, Potter." Harry cringed at the use of his surname and immediately went silent. "I am not completely oblivious to the world of muggles."

Harry fixed his eyes out of the window, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest and crushing feeling of his heart.

They arrived after a short drive, and he let himself out of the car before heading inside. The door closed with a loud bang behind him. His shoulders stiffened, but he refused to turn around for fear of what he might find in Draco's expression.

"Well?"

Harry licked his lips. "Well what?"

"Why did you flee last night?"

"Does it matter? You got what you wanted. A kiss with the-Boy-Who-Lived. I'm sure it hardly matters," Harry responded bitterly.

He was immediately turned and faced with a fuming Draco. The man looked positively homicidal. "That is bloody tripe, and you know it. I thought you were beginning to understand me better, Potter."

Harry closed his eyes, fist tightening. "Look, I think if we want to find this book, we are going to have forget last night ever happened."

"Why? Give me a good reason, and I will consider it," Draco hissed lowly.

"I didn't like it," Harry lied.

Draco chuckled without mirth. "That's a lie, Potter, and we both know it. Try again."

"It's not!" Harry yelled, pulling away from Draco. "I can't…we can't do that anymore! It'll ruin everything!"

Draco didn't attempt to pull Harry back; instead, he crossed his arms and regarded Harry seriously. "What will it ruin? Why do you think a kiss will ruin anything?"

"Because it's not just a kiss to me!" Harry yelled before he could think twice.

Draco's lips curved up. "You are in love with me."

"No," Harry denied breathlessly. "I can't be."

"Why ever not?"

"Because you…you could easily have a relationship with anyone else!"

"That has very little to do with your being in love with me. Besides, I have stated it before: I have particular tastes, and do not have relations with just anyone," Draco stated coolly.

Harry ground his teeth down in frustration. "Look. You are used to have relationships probably without commitment. I…I can't do something like that."

"You assume a lot about me, Harry. While I will not deny that there has been a time or two where I did not pursue to know the other better, I would not be so bold as to snog _the-Boy-Who-Lived_ without any sort of intention for a deeper relationship," Draco finished with a sigh.

"But—"

"I am a living, breathing wizard. I am also a Malfoy and a Slytherin. If I desire of something, there is very little that would persuade me from getting it," the blue-gray eyes fixed pointedly on Harry. "Right now, I desire you. Only you. I want you however you will have me. If you wish to slow down, then I will concede to that wish. I will not—however—cease this all entirely unless there is a good reason. You reciprocating is not one of them."

Harry was speechless and very near fainting. If he wasn't mistaken in understanding what Draco was saying, then did that mean that Draco might—possibly—like him as well?

Now Harry really hoped it wasn't all some sort of dream.

"You like me?"

Draco groaned with exasperation. "I thought you already knew as much. Are you seriously telling me you were absolutely unaware of my desire for you?"

Harry suddenly felt insulted. "Why wouldn't I be?! You never said it. You even said that I wasn't your type!"

"It is quite adorable how you trust my every word, Harry."

"Wha—"

Draco pulled Harry towards him, silencing him with a hard kiss that wracked his body to the very core. He groaned against the onset of stimulus it brought about before Draco pulled away.

"You are bloody bull-headed," Draco complained, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's forehead and holding him tightly. "However, I would not have you otherwise." Draco pulled away, leaving Harry suddenly very weak. "I do not expect you to fall willing into my arms, but I ask that you never run from me. I would much rather face your wrath than desperately search for you all night."

Desperately search? "Were you looking for me?"

"Of course!" Draco growled. "You left your wand. You were unprotected and emotional. Why would I not worry?!"

Harry dropped his eyes in shame. This was a very new side to Draco, but then again, Harry had been discovering a plethora a new sides about Draco Malfoy; that was partly how he had come to fall madly in love with him.

It was still unbelievable that those feelings would be returned, but Harry couldn't run anymore.

"Okay," he breathed, pressing forward and laying a chaste kiss on the angry Slytherin's lips. "I won't run away anymore."

A soft flush tainted Draco's cheeks before he was absently rubbing at his nose. "See that you don't."

"So…we're dating?" Draco's face morphed in disgust, and Harry laughed. "Isn't that what two people who like each other do?"

"Must you say everything in so many words?"

"Hm," Harry pretended to think for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Bloody Gryffindors."

"Does this make you my lover now?" Harry asked with a small smirk.

Draco blanched. "If you ever refer to me in such a way again, I will hex you brainless."

"Noted," Harry said smiled. "Lover."

He immediately escaped to the bathroom when Draco reached for him, laughing the entire way.

TBC…

Two chapters in one day?! Madness! Okay, so finally…it has happened, sort of! I felt bad with leaving you guys in a sore spot so I worked all day to get this chapter out. So hopefully this earns me some treats…pie or cake are both acceptable! Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight: Pants On or Pants Off?_

Harry walked briskly, feet crunching against mud and stone, and air blowing out of his mouth like puffs of white smoke. He breathed the fresh morning in as the cold nipped treacherously at his face. He didn't care though despite his increasingly numb face.

Since Draco was needed in London, he had headed out shortly after their _discussion_. Harry had felt like their hearts and minds connected finally, and so was unhappy to know that it would be a short while longer before he could practice a bit more snogging. He was starting to find he quite liked the activity after short bouts before Draco's departure this morning.

It all felt surreal. Draco returning his affections. Their relationship transforming from two wizards that despised each other to grow to have a friendship, and now, lovers—however much Draco hated that terminology.

His chest felt lighter, his steps chipper, and face forever smiling as Harry headed to the bookshop.

He was smiling the entire way—right up until he was face-to-face with an irate, heavily breathing, red-faced Dakin that is.

"Oh," he breathed, forgetting that the last time he had seen Dakin he had been immobilized. "You…how?"

"I was released shortly before the prissy boy left," Dakin growled. "He's lucky I was happy I hadn't peed myself yet with all the drinking we did last night."

"Sorry Dakin," Harry apologized genuinely. "You didn't deserve to be treated like that."

"He fancies you," the other wizard said slowly, shrugging his shoulders, and blowing out a sigh. "He warned me if I ever hit on you, he'd do more than immobilize me next time. He's bloody powerful that one." Harry could see the sparks of respect in the older man's eyes and felt relief wash over him. "I still don't like him," Dakin added with a finger pointed at Harry's face, "but there is no denying that face of yours. You fancy him too."

Harry groaned. Was it that bloody obvious?!

"Yes," Dakin said in answer to his unvoiced question. "He may be powerful, but if he ever hurts you, I will make that prissy arse pay."

Harry smiled brightly. "Thanks, Dakin."

The older wizard shrugged once more before they entered the shop and started their normal opening duties.

It had been two days since Draco had left. Harry had received an owl the first night simply saying that Draco was unfortunately under more media scrutiny, and that he may be a while longer than expected. The next day—to his utter shock—Draco called him on his mobile. Harry had been so baffled when the deep register of Draco's voice floated through the receiver that he had to take several long minutes to get his brain to work properly.

It seemed that Rita Skeeter had written about Draco in Galway, fabricating a story about an Irish love-interest. It made both of them laugh for nearly minutes over the tripe she had written. Harry no longer got the Daily Prophet, so Draco sat for a long few minutes attempting to read through the trash of an article about some secret Irish lover. It had taken so long merely because they were laughing so hard.

Today, he had been enjoying a novel, wishing desperately to see Draco before the end of the week. He had found another lead, this one a bit more substantial than the last, and intended to follow up on it when the weekend arrived. He wanted to have Draco there; partly because it was Draco who knew the specifics, but mostly because he wanted to spend another weekend with the Slytherin Potion's Master.

Harry set the book down, his eyes gone cross-eyed after nearly spending the entire day reading. He looked over to his mobile. Draco had given him a number to reach him at—having said that the mobile was only for when Harry had more to say than what could be written in a letter. Harry had smiled at that. Draco had made tremendous strides; it was showing by the growing amount of familiarity with muggle items.

Even after making such a stink about pills, he had mentioned while conversing with Harry over the mobile that he did, in fact, attempt it and said only that it wasn't "as horrid" as he thought. He then proceeded to demand the list of what it was made of and how. Ever the Potion's Master.

However, Harry didn't necessarily have much to say to Draco—his life was fairly monotonous during the week—but he wanted to hear his lover's voice, if only for a moment. It was such a girly thought that he nearly gagged at it.

Still, he wanted to hear the sultry tenor right against his ear; the husky laughter when he said something unknowingly humorous. He wanted to listen to Draco drabble on about the dull, overly trite work contacts. He wanted to hear Draco tease and taunt him about missing him; Harry denying it all the while secretly agreeing as well.

Harry shook his head and left the mobile where it was. It was all too new, and he didn't want Draco to grow tired of him, especially for hounding him day and night. So, he left it alone.

Harry had started to read again when his mobile went off. He reached for it instantly, looking at the screen to see who it was. Hoping. Praying. Yes! It was Draco.

"Hello?" he answered, hoping his voice sounded normal despite the excitement building inside him.

"You sound way too excited, Harry."

Shite. "I was just…reading a good part of my novel," he lied lamely.

"Right," Draco returned sarcastically. Harry could almost hear the smirk on the blonde's lips. "I will be able to return tomorrow."

"Really?!" Harry nearly shouted then subsequently cursed under his breath. "I mean, good. I found a new lead that I wanted to investigate this weekend."

"Did you now?"

"Proud of me?" Harry teased.

He could almost hear Draco roll his eyes. "Not as much as you are of yourself apparently."

"That's just mean," Harry pouted. "I went through all this trouble…"

"Oh, shut it," Draco laughed out. "I should be able to come around noon tomorrow. Will you be at the shop?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, enjoying the way Draco's voice took on a huskier tone after laughing. "Will you come by then?"

"That depends."

"On?"

Draco's voice dropped suddenly. "On whether or not the troll"—Harry cleared his throat—"McClain is there," Draco corrected with a growl.

Harry smiled as he answered with nonchalance. "Hm, I'm not sure actually…"

"Harry," Draco warned, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Oh, fine. You're such a spoilsport. I wonder if your Irish lover might is treated better…"

"I am hanging up."

Harry interjected quickly. "Okay, okay. He'll be gone tomorrow. He's headed for Scotland to watch a football game. Or so he says anyway."

"A simple yes or no would have sufficed," Draco complained.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Draco sighed heavily into the phone. "Looks like I am needed by another incompetent colleague. I will see you tomorrow."

The call ended with Harry feeling oddly unsatisfied despite his excitement for Draco's return. He slouched into his seat, defeated by his mixed emotions. Their relationship was so different now. He could hardly recognize them together. Had he really been this…girly before? Surely never with Ginny.

Standing up, he headed for the bedroom, deciding it was best to sleep. If he slept, tomorrow would come faster. Harry almost felt like a child the night before Christmas.

"I would suggest this one," Harry said as he handed over a book to his customer. "It has a great amount of fantasy with large bouts of action. It would be perfect for you, Mister O'Hara."

"That's perfect, lad," the older gentleman said while examining the cover. "I'll take a bit of a read of it then. Let you know what I think. It's it alright if I borrow it 'til then?"

"Of course," Harry said with a smile. "You always buy them in the end."

"That I do. That I do," the older man said with a wrinkled smile. "Well, I best be off then. I'll see you in a few days when I've finished."

"Okay, see you then," Harry responded as the old man left out of the shop and down the street.

Sighing as he looked at the clock, Harry wished that time would move quicker. It was only eleven, so Draco shouldn't be showing just yet, but he was eager to see him. A little too eager.

He once more pulled out his novel and started to read, hoping to pass the time efficiently that way.

"Waiting for someone?" a voice questioned shortly following the chime of the shop door.

Harry's head shot up from his book, taking in the appearance of Draco as he walked purposefully towards him.

Draco had dressed casually today—casual for a Malfoy anyway. He was wearing a dark emerald silk button-down with black, pin-striped dress trousers. His hair was styled around his face, framing the hard and soft contours of it and illuminating those blue-gray eyes that mesmerized Harry every time they fixed on him. His height and shoulder width made him appear lithe, but Harry knew from experience that it was a very good deception from his true form.

Harry was probably drooling. It hardly mattered when the object of his affection was standing right in front of him, lifting him out of his seat…Wait—what?!

Harry barely had time to register what was happening when a mouth collided with his own, and a tongue slid through the space of his parted lips as he let out a surprised gasp. Fingers grasped into his hair, angling him and pressing him harder into the kiss.

His eyes fell closed, forgetting where they were, and responding eagerly to Draco's passionate kiss. Lips sliding, tasting, melding together, he put every bit of emotion he had felt during their separation. Every yearning he collected over their reconnection through the weeks.

Draco pulled away slightly, eyes regarding Harry with just as much passion as his kiss had. "That was quite the welcome," he said, lips curving up in a wry grin.

"And very, very public," Harry breathed as he attempted to pull away. "What—" his brain worked slowly, "—what was that all about?"

"You really require everything to be said in so many words, don't you?"

Harry smiled shyly. "Prat."

Draco pulled away fully, releasing Harry from his embrace. Suddenly, Harry felt the loss. He managed—however—not to reach out and pull Draco back to him. Thankfully, he hadn't. The next moment, another customer strolled in.

Flushed, Harry greeted the customer and pulled away entirely from Draco.

Darkness surrounded them as they walked leisurely down the street. The cold night air bit into his hands. And just as he was about to put them into his pockets, a strong, narrow-fingered hand entwined with his own. Harry's head jerked up and over to Draco, but the other wizard kept his gaze forward. It was too dark to make out the Slytherin's expression, but Harry hoped that it was similarly flushed like his own.

They walked quietly down the path, their footfalls among the only sounds around them aside for the occasional chirp of crickets in the brush.

"Did you manage to deceive the media?"

Draco sighed deeply, hand tightening momentarily before speaking. "For the moment."

"Your trips to and from Ireland are probably suspicious," Harry added thoughtfully. "Maybe you do have an Irish lover," Harry teased.

Draco scoffed lightly. "I really do despise that word."

"I know it," Harry retorted with a chuckle. "Hopefully, we can find the book soon, and then you wouldn't have to come out so often. I really want to get your mother better."

Suddenly, Harry was jerked sideways and wrapped up into a tight embrace. "I would return regardless of the book. However, must you live among muggles? If you were to return—"

"I would never have any peace," Harry finished curtly. "I can't. I…it is best if I remain here."

"Where the troll is," Draco grumbled.

Harry pushed softly at the taller wizard's shoulder. "Stop calling him that. And no, not just him. Everyone I have come to know in these six years. I gave up a lot to come here, so giving up now seems like a waste of all that sacrifice."

"I could offer you a private home where you would never be bothered by the public," Draco offered sincerely.

Harry could only discern a few of the other wizard's expressions, but he knew the seriousness in those eyes that regarded him. Still, he found himself shaking his head. "No, I can't…not after all this time. It would be hardly private for long."

"Harry."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Harry clipped with a groan. "You only just got back. Let's leave it for another time."

"Procrastination is hardly wise," Draco scolded but led Harry back into their stride towards his home.

Harry smiled sadly. Procrastination. Deception was more accurate. It was clear that Draco wouldn't leave his life in London to be with Harry; Harry couldn't leave his life in Ireland to be with Draco. Were they on a road that led to heartbreak?

Harry didn't want to think about it. Couldn't think about it. If he had to choose between Draco and his current life, what would his choice be? He didn't know. What was in the wizarding world for him? He may be in love with Draco, but was it enough to give up six years of sacrifice?

Kissing was becoming a favored past-time. He had shared so many kisses with Draco that his lips had become chapped and sore. Rubbing his lips, he attempted to revitalize them after a particularly long snog-fest.

Draco never pressed for more. Whenever their lips met, tongues danced, and bodies pressed, Draco would never push for more than Harry was not already doing himself. Harry never imagined Draco would be the kind, understanding sort of lover.

However, as the days passed, he was starting to comprehend just how gentle of a lover Draco was. Granted, Draco would often surprise him with kisses that were domineering and passionate, but he would never force anything that Harry wasn't comfortable with.

Harry gathered the usual treats for their tea and headed back into the living room where Draco was seated with a journal, jotting down notes.

"What's that you're writing?"

"Nothing important," Draco responded dismissively before putting the journal to the side.

Harry sat down, getting ready to serve them a cup of tea. However, he was jerked to the side, hand cupping his chin and mouth pressed into his own, firmly, unyieldingly. His body turned at an awkward angle, Harry attempted to kiss back, but finally had to pull away to fix his position.

"You could've just asked, you know."

Draco's eyes ignited with amusement as a smirk played on his lips. "And miss the blush now tainting your cheeks? I think not."

Harry flushed hotter. Licking his lips, still tasting Draco's own on his, he leaned forward and dared to touch his mouth to the other. Draco—most often—was the one to initiate their kisses; thus, when Harry surprised the Slytherin with the kiss, a flush began to spread over Draco's face.

"Who's blushing now?" Harry taunted with mischievous grin.

Draco leaned forward, hand immediately cradling Harry's neck, and pulled him forward into another hot kiss that caused his toes to curl and hands to clasp desperately at the material of Draco's shirt. His mouth was pillaged ruthlessly; tasted, kneaded, and filled with such hot passion he was barely held it together if not for the anchor on the Slytherin.

Harry was desperate to gain even a small inkling of dominance, so he pressed into Draco bodily, rutting his hips into the other and causing low groans to rumble into his opened mouth. He swallowed them away with kisses, pressing further into the touch and once more gyrating his hips invitingly.

A short, feral growl resounded through him as Draco easily changed their position, pressing Harry's back into the sofa and pressing his entire weight into him. Hips thrust into his own; hardness met hardness as they continued to rut rather shamelessly together.

It was the first time they had gone so far, but Harry wanted it; needed the touch so badly that he found himself clinging to Draco as if fearing the other would pull away at any moment. It would surely kill him. So he held fast to his lover, answering each passionate thrust with one of his own.

Pleasure whipped through him like liquid fire, sizzling him to the core and igniting a passion he had never felt his entire life. More. He wanted more.

"Draco," Harry rasped after pulling away to catch his breath. "Need you."

Draco's face was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, cheeks equally flushed as Harry's were sure to be, and mouth kiss-swollen. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"Merlin. Don't ask! Just do it already! Something… _anything_ ," he pleaded as he ripped at Draco's clothing madly. "And take this damnable thing off!"

Draco smirked as he easily stripped his shirt off, exposing strained muscle as he straddled Harry's body and started on his trousers.

Gods. But wasn't Draco's body exquisite. Harry ate in the sight of pale, porcelain skin laid bare of hair and imperfection. Harry's eyes strayed over the rippling flesh, trailing his hands where he looked in complete rapture.

Draco groaned, momentarily stalling as Harry explored his naked torso. After a short moment, he set to Harry's clothing, thrusting his shirt up and over Harry's head; and then taking Harry's trouser button and popping it off with practiced ease. Harry hadn't time to feel any sort of modesty because Draco was already tasting his flesh, sucking it, nipping a trail from navel to neck in swift movements.

Harry arched into the touch, gasping and pleading for Draco to go on. He needed the other so badly. What, he wasn't exactly sure. However, he was willing to venture into the unknown just to taste more of the euphoria Draco was currently bequeathing him.

The hot, electric sparks surged through him. Heat coiled just below his stomach. Every swipe of tongue and lips was encouraging his voice to become less restrained and much more vocal as Draco continued to worship his body. Harry's breathing hitched when Draco sucked hotly at one of his nipples, rolling it gently between his teeth then swiping it teasingly with his tongue.

Harry's hands flew to the blonde's hair, neither stalling nor encouraging the other. Not dissuaded in the least, the Slytherin continued to suck and nibble between the two peaks before licking a pathway to just below Harry's chin.

"You taste delicious, Harry."

Harry groaned. "You're not allowed to talk anymore."

Draco pressed small kisses along the line of his jaw before whispering huskily into his ear. "Afraid you might cum if I say anything else?"

Harry moaned, body arching invitingly. Draco pressed into him, thrusting their hard pricks between them.

"What do you want me to do? How far should I go," the other wizard continued to whisper. "Should I suck you? Bugger you brainless? Or…both?" Draco hissed as their erections continued to slide against each other.

How was Draco even talking through this? Harry could barely think let alone accomplish coherent speech. His body was on fire with pleasure. The building ecstasy was incredible, but Harry was starting to hesitate. Thankfully, they still had their boxers on, but Harry was starting to lose the passion-induced haze from earlier and reality was slowly creeping in.

Apparently, that much could be seen because Draco slowed some, and his eyes became serious. "Is this too much for you, Harry?"

Harry wanted to deny it, but there was a part of him that still felt it was a bit fast. He swallowed roughly. "Not…it's just, this is the first time…"

"I know," Draco said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry's lips. "If you're not ready, do not force yourself. I can wait."

Harry felt his heart clamoring in his chest, pulse throbbing in his ears, the flushing of body as it pressed against Draco's, but all he acknowledged was the gentleness of Draco's eyes. Of his words.

Harry had craved this sort of love ever since his childhood. He had found similar versions: his friends, the Weasley family, Dumbledore, his late godfather. None of them, however, could compare to how he felt in this very moment.

Harry pressed his hands gently to Draco's face, hoping to portray just how much those words had loved him—cherished him. All of his apprehensions fell away as he shook his head and smiled softly at Draco.

"I'm ready," he stated with confidence before leaning upwards and pressing a firm kiss to Draco's lips.

Their mouths moved slowly this time, taking their time to explore and pleasure through the touch. When he thought it best to move their activities to the bedroom, the front door burst open, and Dakin's loud voice echoed through.

"I found the book! I found the bloody book!" the large man said boastfully, coming right inside. However, when his eyes met the sight before him, his jaw dropped, eyes boggled from his head, and body froze all in one swift moment. "Wha—"

Draco's guttural growl flowed out. He covered Harry's naked body fully with his own. "Get out you bloody troll!"

Regardless of the intensity of Draco's demand, Dakin remained frozen at the sight. Harry's body flushed with absolute mortification as Draco quickly sought his wand and spelled their clothes back on. Thank Merlin for magic.

Harry hid his face in his hands as Dakin finally came to his senses.

"The book," the older wizard repeated lamely. "Uh—er—I found it."

Draco's voice was deep and angry. "And you thought that reason enough to barge inside _someone_ _else's_ home, you bloody twit."

"Right," Dakin said, flushing. "That—uh—sorry 'bout that."

Harry rubbed his hot face in his hands before regarding his friend. "So you found the book? Where? I thought you had gone to Scotland."

"I did," Dakin argued as his eyes strayed away from Harry. "That's where I found the bloody thing."

"Are you sure it's the same book?"

"…pretty sure," Dakin mused before taking a book with dark binding from his pocket. "It's pretty dull, but the book feels enchanted."

Draco snatched the proffered book, obviously still fuming about being intruded on. He looked through it briefly before glancing up again. "While I will never like you, nor will I ever forgive you barging in and laying eyes on what is _mine_ …" Draco bit out, "I suppose this redeems you, if only slightly."

Dakin grinned wolfishly at Draco. "Found it then did I? What do you need it for anyway?"

"None of your bloody business," Draco clipped before standing and heading for the table. "I need to contact a few colleagues to see if I can disarm the enchantment," he said more to Harry than to Dakin.

Harry finally regained his composure and looked at his friend who still couldn't look him quite in the eye. "Thank you. He…well, you finding that book was a real lifesaver." Quite literally. Harry decided to keep all of that out since Draco made it clear he wanted no one else to know of his mother's illness, and his reason for seeking the book.

"Yeah. Uh, well then, I should get going," Dakin struggled out. "See you at the bookshop. Ring me if you need me to watch it for a few days."

Harry appreciated his friend more than ever. He hoped that this helped settle some of their differences. While he never expected friendship, Harry was sure that Draco was grateful for this.

Dakin headed out, and so Harry headed for the table where Draco sat. They immediately sent out correspondences for enchanters. Hopefully, they could get the book unlocked so Draco could brew the cure right away.

This was the first time that Harry wanted to return to the wizarding world. He wanted to support Draco as he worked to cure his mother.

TBC…

Okay, before I get docked about how quick their relationship went from point A to point B. Harry is also a guy…twenty-four and a virgin. Would you be able to keep it in your pants? Not likely. Also, I apologize if my use of British slang isn't the greatest. I lived in Ireland for a year, but I'm American…so sometimes, I just don't even bother. Well hope you enjoyed this juicy, juicy…fluffy chapter! Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I don't care what nobody says! I love me some fluffy, snarky Draco. (Little Draco POV in this chapter)

 _Chapter Nine: Another Go_

"Absolutely not!" Draco attempted to close the front door, but the bloody troll blocked it with a largely oversized boot. "Remove your foot, troll."

"Who…Draco, what are you doing?!" Harry cried out, attempting to maneuver around Draco. "I told him to come by!"

"Yeah! How are you this bloody strong, prissy boy?! I thought you were…" McClain grunted heavily as he desperately tried to force the door open, "—you're basically skin and bones!"

Harry forced Draco to the side, finally causing the door to slip open, and subsequently sending the body of his large, oversized troll hurling through it in surprise. Draco immediately jerked Harry out of the way and allowed the large buffoon to surge inside with nothing but the floor to break his fall.

The floor shuddered as McClain made impact, grunting like some sort of ogre, and finally rolling to his back when he had sufficiently pummeled his face. Draco couldn't help the triumphant smirk as the large beast lay defeated on the floor.

"Much better," Draco stated with a narrowed look before turning to the wide-eyed Harry. "What did you ask him over for?"

Harry ignored him, causing his temper to flare, and was immediately coddling the large troll now blocking their entire entryway. Bloody twit. Draco crossed his arms in irritation as Harry helped the large troll from the floor—not very easily mind you. Harry was half McClain's size; no doubt half his weight as well.

Draco fumed as he watched his emerald-eyed lover (he hated the word but there was little else to describe his Harry with) cradle the large man's body weight onto his small shoulders.

It was absolutely preposterous that Harry would fawn over this oversized wizard. Draco did not understand this constant need to give attention to dimwitted creatures; Harry was prone to _friendships_ with especially impudent, undereducated, indefinitely smelling of body odor, and incredibly irritating wizards.

Draco pushed down the creeping sensation of jealousy as Harry continued to mollycoddle the mountain troll.

"Well?" he demanded when Harry had finally settled the beast. "What purpose does it serve to have _that_ "—he pointed at the large man now denting in their sofa—"in our house at this hour of the day?!"

It was currently half past eight in the evening, and Draco had been preparing for a long evening of exploring Harry's body and tutoring him in the many ways of male pleasure. Instead, he was forced to play host to some mountain troll that had the audacity to use _his_ Harry like a bloody crutch. Absolutely ludicrous!

"He knows an enchanter in London that may be able to unravel the enchantment on the book," Harry said pointedly, glaring at Draco as if he had done something wrong. He hadn't. It was the Gryffindor's mistake to think he would happily, gleefully allow this troll to stay over without so much as having been conversed with first.

"I still do not comprehend the reason for his being here now," Draco hissed. "We leave in the morning. Come then. Actually—I retract that—do not. Leave now and do not return. I refuse to receive help from a troll."

Dakin's eyes regarded him with amusement. Bloody twit. "I found your little book in the first place. Besides, Harry said you had trouble finding someone knowledgeable with this sort of historical enchantment."

Draco wanted to curse, but he would not allow it in this twit's presence. "I will find an enchanter. My network is much more expansive than yours, McClain. Be assured."

Harry sighed. "Look, he has one. The sooner we unlock it, the sooner we can cure your mum." Draco tossed Harry an angry glare, hating that Harry had made a very valid point. "He's here tonight because…well, Dakin is prone to tardiness, so I told him to sleep here tonight. He has a place to stay in London when we arrive."

"You mean for him to _stay the night_? Absolutely not."

Dakin smiled unabashedly. "Isn't this Harry's house, prissy boy?" Draco glared with a vehemence at the arrogant bastard.

"Please Draco," Harry pleaded with those beautiful eyes Draco was often ensnared by. "He won't be a bother. You and I can share the room and he'll take the sofa."

Draco would not yield. Harry's eyes implored him sweetly, glistening green entrancing him effectively into a stupor. Was Harry part nymph?! Bloody hell. "Fine."

He would punish Harry later, but first, silencing spells. Harry was too focused on the big oaf to noticed Draco securing wards around their bed quarters and silencing spells for privacy. He had every intention of making Harry reward him for his forfeit this night.

Smirking, Draco went into the bedroom to wait for his victim.

Harry had managed to sway Draco; his coercion being quite successful. Harry knew he had to be underhanded to get Draco to agree and was surprised when it worked almost famously against his stubborn lover.

After making sure that Dakin was comfortable and fed, Harry headed to their bedroom, wondering what the sudden feeling of Draco's magic was about. Had Draco erected wards? Was he that frightened of Dakin? Or, did he worry that Dakin would take an opportunity to exact his revenge on him for the skirmish at the door?

Draco needed to lighten up, was all Harry could think as he closed the door behind him and faced the now half-naked form of his blonde lover laying languidly on his bed. Harry nearly lost his footing, startling at the sight as Draco invitingly waving him over.

"Uh," Harry uttered out loud as he walked hesitantly over. "Why only…those?" Harry pointed to Draco's boxers.

"Take your clothes off," Draco stated coolly, ignoring Harry's question.

"Wha—"

"Take. Them. Off," Draco reiterated with a deep, powerful voice. "Then come to bed."

Harry shivered at the intensity of Draco's voice, finding that—though he shouldn't be—he was quite turned on by it. Harry's hands shook slightly as he pulled up the hem of his shirt, pulling it up his torso and finally over his head before discarding the slightly-too-large green shirt to the floor.

Draco's eyes watched him, intensifying when his skin was laid bare before him. "And your trousers," the other wizard whispered in a sultry tone. "Take them off."

Harry swallowed, wishing he could cease the shake in his hands as he fumbled with the button and zip of his trousers. His heart clamored against his chest as he was finally able to manage the zip enough to slide his trousers from his hip, and then down the length of his legs.

Harry's stomach tightened, hardening his slightly toned abs as Draco watched him—eating in the sight of him with darkening eyes and a small rise to one side of his lips. Harry toed off the jeans, pushing them to the side, and straightened his back to appear as though he wasn't suffering a dizzy feeling at the intensity and mortification of his current situation.

"Come here," Draco demanded, catching Harry's arm when he neared the side of the bed and pulling him down. "You are bloody gorgeous, Harry," the other wizard whispered hotly before straddling Harry.

Harry felt his entire body flush with the Slytherin's words as soft, unassuming kisses pressed over the expanse of his naked torso. Harry's breathing hitched when Draco's mouth nuzzled a particularly sensitive patch.

"Like that do you?" Draco teased, sliding his tongue over it and eliciting a moan from Harry's mouth. "You are rather sensitive," Draco continued on as if they were having a normal conversation and were not in the middle of such things. "You seem to like it here as well," Draco mused as his mouth breathed hotly over one of Harry's nipples.

Arching, hands flying into Draco's hair, Harry moaned approvingly. His lower part, which had been half-hard until now, throbbed and hardened fully at the sensation.

"Very sensitive indeed," Draco remarked with a lift of his eyes to Harry. "Did you know, Harry, that those who receive the most pleasure and sensation from their nipples are inherently more pleasured by being taken than if not?"

Harry couldn't breathe. The assault on his nipple continued, hot air bathing him each time Draco spoke.

"I have never found such pleasure; but you, it would seem you will be quite satisfied when I eventually fuck you," Draco hissed before taking Harry's mouth against his and sliding his tongue to dominantly in to claim it.

Harry was never so turned on, never so willing to yield to another so completely in his entire life. His body arched and writhed against Draco's ministrations as the other wizard continued to pleasure him through the slightest touches.

Fingers teased, scraped, pleasured as they traveled along his torso, lower abdomen, higher thighs before resting where he needed Draco's touch the most. Sliding the material of Harry's boxers away, Draco skimmed the flesh at first with a palm before wrapping it and tightly pulling it.

"Draco!" Harry gasped at the unexpected sensation. Wanking himself never felt like this. "Merlin…" he breathed as Draco's hand worked him leisurely, stroking and squeezing his prick. Legs spreading, Harry thrust up into his lover's hand, urging it faster.

"No," Draco stated simply before his hand fleeted away and left Harry groaning in despair. "I have many other things I wish to do to you. No need to end them quickly," Draco said, eyes portraying a lust that was answered in Harry's own.

Harry wanted to groan and even toyed with the very idea of begging Draco to keep at it; but instead, he nodded, swiping his lips with his tongue as Draco kneeled backwards and rested on the heels of his feet. Draco pulled Harry's boxers down, fully exposing him before flicking his wand. "Accio lubricant."

A small vial flew from Draco's bag and landed swiftly into his hand. Harry watched it with interest; he had done _some_ research about what transpired between two men, so he wasn't totally naïve to what lubricant meant.

"This is a solution of my own devising," Draco explained as if he wasn't sitting now totally naked aside from boxers over Harry's completely bare frame. "This is a reason that you should be thankful you are not a muggle, Harry. Sex between muggle men is painful. Fortunately for you, sex between wizards is…for the most part, not."

Harry's eyes strayed down to the vial held by Draco, watching as the other wizard coated his fingers generously with it. "Uh…" Harry was suddenly very nervous. His head turned sideways towards the front room. "Dakin—"

"Will be unable to hear a thing," Draco growled. "Another advantage to magic you may have forgotten; I put up locking and silencing charms."

That explained the magic. Harry wanted to sigh, knowing that Draco had planned this from the very beginning, but wasn't so sure he minded it at all. Harry was rather disappointed himself when Dakin had interrupted their last _session_ together.

Sensing that Harry had conceded, Draco pushed Harry's thighs apart, kneeling between the space of Harry's open legs and pressing a well-lubricated finger to Harry's pucker. Harry's breathing hitched with another sharp gasp when Draco pushed just slightly on the tense ring of muscle.

"I—"

Draco bent over, pressing a reassuring kiss to Harry's lips. "Hush, Harry." He pushed inside the contracting ring of muscle, and Harry nearly jerked backwards at the odd sensation. "I have to coat your insides for this to work. Otherwise, it will be very unpleasant. Stay still."

Draco was experienced. Harry had forgotten—well, chose to forget it anyway. The sudden heat and pain in his chest burned as he remember that this had been entirely new for him, but not for Draco. He was the inexperienced one here.

Closing his eyes tightly, Harry fought his jealous thoughts. The sensation was unnatural; he wanted to push against it in hopes of removing it. Still, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. After Draco added another finger, shifting them and scissoring them inside Harry had he found that unnatural was soon incredibly pleasurable.

"Ah," he gasped as a hot sensation washed over him, causing his prick to throb and return to life.

Draco smirked as he slid over the hidden nub once more, watching Harry intently as he did. Harry's chest shot up like it had been pulled by a string shortly followed by another surprised moan. What the bloody hell was that?!

Again and again, Draco's fingers assaulted that spot inside him until he was gasping and panting for release. Two fingers had become three, spreading him, preparing him for the large tent now visible in Draco's boxers.

Harry tingled all over, heat coiling and building in his lower body, threatening to burst if Draco rubbed that place one more time.

Draco pulled his fingers from him just before he could release the near-painful heat below. Before Harry could moan in protest, Draco stripped the boxers from himself with another wave of his wand and coated the large, pulsing length with a generous amount of his lubricant.

Harry couldn't help the intense fascination as those long fingers that had previously been pleasuring Harry to unimaginable heights now lathered the Slytherin's thick, throbbing, much larger prick. It made his own mouth fall open slightly in an effort to breathe through his desire.

 _That_ was going to be inside him? Merlin. How?

Draco finished with a small smirk before readjusting Harry so that he was on his knees, arse in the air aiming at the Slytherin. Oh gods. Harry tensed with embarrassment as hands pried his cheeks apart and something large pressed against his well-stretched pucker.

Harry could hear the soft pants of his lover as he pushed through the first ring of muscle. Harry's body bent backwards in surprise by the new sensation. His head fell forward, drenched in perspiration as Draco continued to push inside him, slowly, gently opening him to his fullest capacity.

"Fuck," Harry breathed when Draco's hips connected with his arse. He felt full with the odd sensation. He wiggled curiously, hearing Draco's answering groan as he did. It wasn't horrid, he finally decided as he pushed back again and felt fingers eating into his hips.

Draco pulled out slightly, after gathering himself, and then thrust back in with force that nearly sent Harry off the bed. The sudden explosion of pleasure shook him to his very core, causing Harry's arms and legs to tremble and weaken.

"Gods," he rasped as Draco once more slid out and back in with just as much force. Harry attempted to root himself to the bed, clutching desperately at the bedding. Sounds that he never knew he could make tumble haphazardly from his mouth.

"You're so bloody tight," Draco bit out as he slammed back inside Harry, thrusting with a momentum that was sure to send then all the way off the bed. "Fuck," the blonde breathed as he pressed his entire body against Harry's backside. "You feel so bloody brilliant."

Harry wasn't breathing—rather, he was mumbling and cursing incoherently in a response to the amazing ecstasy every hard thrust gave him. Was it supposed to be this…mind-blowing the first time? Harry's arms shook as Draco continued to thrust inside him, never slowing.

He could feel it; the thin, crumbling edge of his orgasm as Draco thrust again and again over his prostrate.

"Draco…gods, going to—" he desperately tried to warn before his body was stiffening in orgasm. He came so hard it was almost painful, jolting and writhing with every onset of powerful pleasure. The continued hot waves washed over him, eventually forcing him to fall forward into the bed as he had effectively become boneless.

"Fuck," Draco growled before Harry could feel the wizard pressed fully inside him and come in hot, liquid spurts, coating his insides with his seed.

Draco fell down beside him, breathing in shallow, harsh pants, his body glistening with perspiration much like Harry's. They laid breathing for minutes before Draco forced himself upwards and grabbed his wand. He cast a few cleaning spells before falling back onto the bed next to Harry.

Harry's eyes had remained closed the entire time before he was opening them and shifting his gaze to the Slytherin. "Is it always that bloody amazing?" he asked with disbelief.

"When you are with me," Draco replied smug grin before wiping his forehead in a sweeping motion. "Although, this is…the first time I have been so explicitly satisfied by a singular shag, I will admit."

Harry was seeing spots in his vision as he chuckled lightly. "I'll try not to let it go to my head," Harry taunted breathlessly.

"See that you don't," Draco retorted before helping Harry beneath the covers and pulling him into an embrace. "Next time, however, one time will not suffice."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? You want another go?"

"Not tonight," Draco pressed a kiss to Harry's shoulder. "This is your first time. Besides, we have to be up early, and if we were to have another go, you would not be able to walk very well tomorrow."

Harry laughed. "There are potions for that."

"Are you seducing me, Harry?"

Harry shivered at the husky tone Draco's voice had taken. He wouldn't have minded another go, but his eyes were drooping after their first time. "No," he said softly as he fought a yawn. "We'll leave that for another time."

Another kiss was pressed to his shoulder before Harry was slipping into unconsciousness.

They arrived in London, splitting off at Draco's urging, and intending to meet later that day with Dakin's acquaintance. Harry was immediately wrapped up against the tall Slytherin before the familiar sensation of apparition enveloped him.

The Malfoy Manor grounds were something that Harry could easily become enchanted by. The sheer amount of rare and mythical breeds of flower and animal alike were a tribute to the insurmountable wealthy of the Malfoy family even despite the previous war.

Thanks to Draco, while Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment had been a slight against their name, Draco had been able to retain most, if not all, of their previous prestige.

Harry was suddenly transfixed by the bodies of wizards and witches hovering just outside of the home in hopes of getting a glimpse of this lover that Draco was supposedly involved with. Well, Draco was involved with someone, but the wizarding world would never have guessed it.

Harry smiled to himself, keeping the concealment charms tight on his person as he followed Draco down the hallway. While most of the house was guarded with concealment barriers, Draco had warned that lately there have been some possible leaks to the media. He had found a mole just before his return and that person had been dismissed from their position.

"I will introduce you later to my mother," Draco stated as he led Harry into a room that was just as luxurious, just as decorated in well-accented colors as all the rooms before it.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Harry was rather nervous by the prospect of being introduced to Narcissa Malfoy after all that had occurred during the war. "Maybe we should skip it. Besides, I doubt that she would be happy to know her son is affiliated with someone like me."

Draco's eyes fastened on him. "Why would you presume as much? Are you not the savior of this world? Of my family? You may think she harbors ill-will, but I have it on good authority that it is quite the opposite."

Harry felt shameful for saying such things—about a sick woman no less. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

Draco moved forward, pulling Harry gently into his arms, and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "My mother would be content knowing that I have chosen someone fitting; and you are fitting, Harry. You are the embodiment of any families dream son-in-law."

Son-in-law?! Harry stiffened at the proclamation. Draco had, if he wasn't mistaken, basically proposed to him.

"Uh…"

"Shall we go have lunch?" Draco interjected before pulling away. "I think that sustenance before a day dealing with imbeciles is necessary."

Forgetting their previously uncomfortable conversation, Harry regarded Draco with a small reproachful brow. "He's not an imbecile. He not only found the book, but is now finding someone that can unlock it. Why do you dislike him so much?"

"A troll will forever be a troll, Harry."

Harry laughed while shaking his head. "Why do I even bother?"

"Precisely. No need to bother yourself with such things. It is hardly worth your while," Draco retorted with a small smirk.

"You're a right—"

"Sexy," Draco interjected.

"—bastard," Harry finished with a sigh.

"No," Draco said with a shake of his head. "I refuse to travel in _that_ with _that_." Draco stated simply while pointing from the car to Dakin.

"It's just a short drive, Draco."

"No," he refuted.

Dakin pulled Harry towards the car. "Leave him, Harry. You have the book. He can stay here."

"Get your bloody troll-sized hands off of _my Harry_ ," Draco growled while jerking Harry backwards in attempts of dislodging him from Dakin.

Dakin pulled Harry back towards him. "How about no, prissy boy."

"Hey—" Harry attempted to interject, but Draco yanked harder this time, and Harry feared he may become injured in the childish exchange.

Yanking his arms down, he pulled out of both wizards' hold. "Are you bloody children? Draco, get in the bloody car," Harry growled as he pointed Draco. Chuckling sounded from behind him, so he reared backwards and aimed the same finger at Dakin. "No more out of you either." Dakin's mouth shut as all humor faded from his face.

Harry decided to drive with Draco in the front and Dakin navigating from the back. Although, it seemed that his demanding demeanor from before had set the two straight because they did not argue the entire way to the enchanter's house.

After arriving, they were greeted by an elderly man that immediately worked on the book, disenchanting it over the course of two hours. Finally, he was able to unlock the contents. When Draco went to pay the man for his services, he was immediately turned away.

"Long ago, I was saved by someone much like the way you are now," the old man said with a smile. "I feel that fate is at play here, young man, so I will not accept any sort of payment. See to it that your mother is healed and only then will I feel rewarded."

Draco seemed taken aback by the words but nodded with a shake to the older man's hand. "You have my gratitude."

They left, driving in silence for long minutes before Dakin let out a heavy sigh. "Well that was easy."

Draco scoffed while he read through the book, obviously planning out how to brew the cure for his mother. Harry kept his eyes to the road as they headed back to town where Dakin was staying.

"What will you do now?" the older wizard asked Harry. "Are you going back to Ireland?"

"Uh—"

"He will remain here," Draco cut in sharply, causing Harry's head to jerk to the side in question. "I have need of you while I attempt to brew this cure. It is not a simple brew. It takes nearly a fortnight to finish."

"Oh," Harry said with a small nod then addressed Dakin. "Can you watch the shop in the meantime?"

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Dakin grumbled petulantly. "I still don't understand why he would need you here."

"Well, troll, it is none of your bloody business," Draco hissed.

Harry interjected quickly. "I want to be here. Even just to support him. I would really appreciate if you minded the shop while I was gone."

Dakin sighed in defeat. "Fine. Make sure to contact me when you plan to return."

After dropping Dakin off, and receiving a bone-crushing hug that caused a whole new battle between Draco and Dakin, they headed back to Malfoy Manor.

"Do you need anything?" Harry asked as he neared Draco who was mumbling over the book and its contents while retrieving a few items from his ingredient cabinet. "Draco?" The other wizard glanced at him before shaking his head. "Okay, well, I'll be in our bedroom then."

Harry began to head towards the door when a loud crack filled the room.

"Master Draco! Lady Malfoy's condition…it has worsened. Please come," the little stuttering elf proclaimed.

Draco's eyes widened before he was surging past Harry and running out of the room. After a momentary freeze, Harry turned and followed Draco down the hallway towards his mother's room. They entered to find several Healers attempting to stabilize her.

"Sir…" one said before a loud alarm went off, and then the Healers in the room began to dash and speak quickly to each other. Magic flowed from their wands and potions were pressed to the small, fragile woman who had once been healthy and vibrant.

Draco rushed to her side, his face reddening as the Healers worked quickly beside him.

"She's fading quickly, Vincent."

Harry pressed his hand to his lips as a medi-witch came towards him. "I'm afraid we can't have you in here, sir."

"I—"

"Please, I need you out in the hallway," she said gently as she turned Harry and pushed him towards the door. He could hear the gasps and stifled cries of Draco as the activity behind him increased.

He was escorted and sat in a chair just outside of the room before she returned inside, shutting the door behind her. And then there was utter silence.

Harry watched the door as if it would give him some sort of answer, but to no avail. Closing his eyes, pressing his head back into the wall behind him, Harry waited.

TBC…

Another chapter. Hope you guys liked the romp-session. Took a bit longer to get this chapter written because I was having issues with the sex scene. Hope it turned out okay. Love you guys! Until next time!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I have the best fans in the world! Thanks for the great reviews!

 _Chapter Ten: What A Mother Wants_

The door creaked open, causing Harry to startle and jolt up from his chair. Draco walked slowly from the room, face red and swollen from crying. It was a face that made Harry's heart break. Biting his lip, he walked forward and cradled the other wizard's hand in his face—too afraid to ask about Lady Malfoy.

"They have stabilized her for now," the other wizard stated softly. "For how long, I am not sure. I need to brew the cure."

"I can help you," Harry stated firmly.

Draco's regarded him reproachfully. "You are dismal at potions, Harry. You would only bugger it up."

Harry smiled despite himself. "It's the thought that counts?"

"Certainly not," Draco stated but was smiling despite the coldness of his words. "Well, maybe in other ways. Shall we away to my laboratory?"

"Shall we away? Is this some sort of historical film I find myself in?"

"Oh do shut up, Potter," Draco said with a widening smile before pulling Harry tightly into an embrace.

As soon as they were inside the potion's laboratory, Draco immediately set out to begin preparing the necessary ingredients for the first day of brewing. As he explained along the way, the first day would contain the most time-consuming brewing, and the following two weeks would be a mild brew with added spells and enchantments.

Honestly, all of it sounded like jargon that Harry couldn't hope to comprehend. So, not wanting to appear rude as Draco went into _way too much detail_ , Harry listened as if enraptured by it; he was enraptured, just not about what Draco was saying—more so about what he looked like while saying it.

Taking a seat, Harry watched his companion brew with enthusiasm. Draco was probably thankful for the distraction. While they hadn't talked about Lady Malfoy since the incident earlier, Harry was sure that Draco was worrying over it. They didn't know how long her condition would hold.

What he had seen of her, she was in dire condition. Her hair had gone almost entirely white; her face and body had whittled away to practically nothing. She was sallow and emaciated to a degree that made Harry's stomach turn. The proud woman of six years ago was no longer the woman she was today, and her son had to witness the entire transformation through the years.

Harry had attempted to help but had gotten his hand smacked, mouth kissed, and bum pushed into a seat far—very, very far—from where the cauldron was brewing.

Hours ticked by, causing Harry's once straight posture to slouch and weigh down with exhaustion. He had nodded off a time or two, but each time he found Draco in much of the same position over the cauldron.

"If you are tired, go on ahead to bed," Draco said without looking back at Harry.

Harry wiped the tired tears from his eyes. "What about you?"

"I still have a few hours of brewing before I can take a break," Draco stated as he tossed a bit more of his ingredient in.

"Then I'll stay," Harry said firmly, locking his arms across his chest.

"Go to bed, Harry."

"Nope," Harry returned defiantly.

Draco glanced back at him with a small glare. "I do not need you in here. Go to bed."

Harry pressed his finger contemplatively to his lips. "Hm, nope."

"You are bloody stubborn," Draco groaned as he turned fully around to face Harry with the extent of his glare. "What do you hope to accomplish by sitting, snoring, and drooling in my laboratory?"

"I don't drool!" Draco's mouth quirked. "Or snore," Harry added with a glare of his own. "I sleep like an angel."

"Were Gryffindors always this modest?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, but he couldn't help the little smile tugging at his lips. "Says the Slytherin…" Harry sighed before saying, "I just want to do something for you. No matter how small. You said you wanted me here, so here I am."

Draco pondered for a moment before sighing to himself. Turning the putrid potion a few more times, Draco set the ladle aside before walking briskly towards Harry. Harry was pulled up by his shoulders, driven hard into the wall beside him, and ravished within an inch of his life.

After being completely stiff against the touch, Harry finally relaxed and encircled the taller wizard's neck with his arms. He returned the kiss with just as much passionate need as Draco was exerting. The blonde wizard pried his mouth open with a tongue, nibbled sporadically at his lower lip, and groaned heatedly into his mouth.

Then his Slytherin pulled away, smirking as he did with triumph. "Off to bed then."

Harry gaped at him openly. "Wha—"

"The potion needs tending to now. Off to bed with you," Draco shooed him with a wave of his hand.

After a kiss like that, Harry was more than a little _physically frustrated._ He readjusted himself in his pants as they had grown painfully tight. "But—"

"Sleep well, Harry," Draco said nonchalantly though his eyes said otherwise. Draco was clearly doing it on purpose.

Harry's body tightened. He would've—be it any other time—taken Draco by the hem of his shirt and forced him to finish what he started; however, this wasn't just _some other time_. Draco was brewing the cure for his mother. Harry could hardly argue when he knew how much Draco needed to focus on it.

Turning on his heels, he left the smirking Slytherin to his potion.

Harry was led inside a room that he never thought he would venture into alone.

Earlier that evening, a small house-elf had come to his room to ask that he come to Lady Malfoy's bed chambers as she was asking for him. Harry wasn't quite sure how or why she knew that he was there, but deciding that it was better left to ask another time, he had followed the little elf back to the room where his heart first broke.

"Pardon my intrusion…" Harry stated softly as he entered.

"Come," a small, winded voice called to him from the bed. "Come and sit beside me, Harry Potter."

Harry did as he was told, taking care to do it as quietly as he could. The woman, Narcissa Malfoy, was a scant image of herself, but her strong eyes and aristocratic air had remained intact even despite being bedridden.

"My, how you have grown," she murmured before a small smile tugged at her mouth. "My Draco tells me that you have come to have a rather…close relationship. Is that not true?"

Harry hesitated. "Uh, yes, ma'am."

Her smile was gentle as she nodded. "I understand that you must have your misgivings in being connected with our family after all that has transpired. I am also aware of your intention to remain in the muggle world. However, it is my deepest wish that you remain by Draco's side. I hope you do not think me imprudent for saying so."

"No," Harry said with a smile of his own. "I'm truly honored to have you say so. I realize I'm probably not what you expected in terms of a partner for your son, but I will do my best to show you that I am capable of being by his side, Lady Malfoy."

"Narcissa," she implored before coughing softly. "And you will have to forgive me for saying so, but I wonder why it is that you speak so ill of yourself? You should be more confident in your value, Harry. You are truly a great wizard, and I know my son is undoubtedly fond of you."

Harry felt the heat creep into his cheeks. "Um, thank you, Lady—I mean, Narcissa."

"Your gratitude is unnecessary. Rather, I feel that it should be I that is thankful," she said in a soft, rasping voice. "Draco mentioned your helping him find the cure. No doubt, it was involuntarily done at first," she added with a twinkle in her eyes. "I am sure my Draco works tirelessly to brew it, but I must be honest with you, Harry."

Harry's heart began to pound at the serious gaze she now fixed on him.

"I will not be cured by it," she stated evenly. Harry's heart stopped at the finite words. "My illness is incurable. I must ask that when I do pass, you remain by his side. My Draco…he will blame himself, but this book he was sent out for, it was never to cure my ailment, I'm afraid."

Harry's body had become impossibly stiff. "What…but…the Healers…"

"My Draco is rather stubborn you see," she said with a wispy laugh. "He did not accept my fate, and so I created this small untruth so that he might live easier over the years."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wanted to scream, to cry, and to deny that it was the truth, but Narcissa Malfoy's eyes never faltered. This was the truth.

"That's…how could you give him false hope?!" Harry found himself arguing loudly. "He won't understand. He will blame himself for not getting the cure in time."

"He will not," she stated firmly. "I will be revealing the truth to him. However, I needed to speak with you first. He will be very angry when I do, and I fear of what may occur to him should it become too much. I do not have much time, Harry. Will you stay by his side?" There was a collection of tears now in her eyes as she implored him.

Though angry, Harry could never possibly refuse her. "I will. I promise," he stated, voice cracking as his own emotions became too much. "Please…I…this will break his heart."

"He will overcome this, Harry. My Draco is strong—stronger still with you by his side."

There was a knock at the door before Draco came inside. He froze at the door when he realized that Harry was there.

"What is Harry doing here, mother?"

"Come and sit beside me, dearest. Harry, may I speak with my son privately?"

Harry looked at her and then to Draco who seemed perplexed by the intensity of the exchange. Harry feared his voice would give him away if he spoke, so he nodded and left the room. Sitting down on the chair outside the door for the second time since coming here, Harry waited for the inevitable.

His heart was breaking.

The moment that Harry knew Draco had been told, the entire floor shook. The door flew open, cracking and tearing from its hinges as Draco stormed into the corridor. His face was red, eyes trailing tears, and jaw grinding with rage. Harry had never seen Draco this angry; at least not since their re-acquaintance.

Draco reared on Harry. "Did she tell you?"

"I—"

"She did, didn't she? That she is dying. That there is no hope of a cure. That all this time I spent looking for a book, I could have spent beside her!" Draco breathed heavily before focusing on Harry.

"Draco—"

"She lied to me. For years! She allowed me to believe…" Draco trailed off as his voice cracked with emotion. "She…there is no hope," he said finally, anger melting into pure despair as he attempted to flee down the corridor.

Harry was immediately grabbing him and swiftly pulling Draco tightly against himself, wrapping his arms securely around the much larger wizard. "You have every right to be angry," he told him firmly into his backside. "You _should_ be angry. However, don't let this become the reason you turn away from her. Be angry, but be there for her. She needs you now more than ever."

Harry felt Draco fight his hold, so he secured his arms tighter around the other wizard. "I don't want you to regret any choices made here in anger. Please, Draco." Harry could feel the subtle tremors in Draco's body; he knew that his companion was holding back all sorts of emotions.

However, Harry knew that if he allowed Draco to walk away now, the other wizard would one day regret it. Harry pleaded the other wizard again. "Please, Draco. Go speak with her. You need to hear what she has to say, and then you need to say what is in your heart."

Draco was starting to slowly relax in Harry's embrace, no longer fighting it and simply allowing Harry to hold him. After what felt like hours, Draco finally turned and regarded Harry with a calmer face. "Will you come?"

Harry smiled gently. "Of course."

Narcissa watched the two of them as they re-entered the room—after fixing the broken door Draco had taken out his rage on. Her face was pale, and there was evidence that she had been crying much like Draco. Draco sat beside her and took her hand in his.

"Why did you lie to me?"

Narcissa sighed softly. "So that you could live your life, dearest. When I became ill, you remained ever-faithfully beside me. You never ventured outside in worry that I would worsen while you were away. I could not bear to watch you waste away your youth beside me."

Harry felt fingers lace with his own. Looking down, he saw that Draco had taken his hand and held it firmly with his own.

"I would not have—"

Narcissa chuckled in a soft musical way. "You would have, dearest. I do not regret for forcing you to live your life; it allowed you to meet Harry," she passed her glance over to Harry before returning it to Draco. "However, I do regret ever hurting you with it, my Draco. Mothers will do whatever they must for their children."

Harry watched the exchange, feeling a bit out of place there.

"I want you to live your life, however you see fit. Do not suffer yourself any longer over me, my love." Her hand pressed against Draco's cheek. "That is my sincerest wish for you." She wiped away the tear that coursed from Draco's eye. "Know that I am proud of you, and your choice in partner. You have become such a fine man."

Harry felt his own eyes hot with tears. Looking down, he desperately fought to keep them from falling.

That night, after they had spent another two hours in conversation, Lady Narcissa Malfoy passed away quietly in her sleep.

Attending the funeral without a polyjuice potion would have been out of the question since that is the last place Harry wanted to draw attention to himself. He had spent all morning going back and forth on whether or not to use a potion and be there merely to support Draco.

Draco had not cried once since the night he was told about his mother's lie. Harry could see the grief, hear it when Draco spoke, and comprehend it with Draco's lack of appetite and inability to find any reason to converse with Harry.

Harry understood, however. He had lost many close loved ones. He remained silently beside Draco; he never strayed and never pried. He knew that at the moment, no words could possibly comfort the grieving man. So, he offered small touches. Entwining his fingers with Draco's; pressing chaste, gentle kisses to his lover's cheek; embracing the other wizard when the grief deepened on the taller wizard's face.

Dakin had rang him earlier the day of the funeral. Harry had told the other wizard about Lady Malfoy's passing, and it was the first time that Dakin had expressed genuine regard for Draco. He asked Harry to look after him and told Harry that he would continue to mind the shop however long he needed him to.

Draco had been preening his appearance in the mirror for nearly an hour. He was dressed in his best black suit for the funeral processions. Harry would usually take this opportunity to ogle Draco's features and physique; but currently, the pure grief-ridden face of his lover stalled any thoughts other than concern and worry.

"I can come along," Harry offered after mulling over his decision. "I'm sure I can use someone mundane wizard to join you at the funeral."

"No need," Draco quipped before fixing his tie.

"But—"

"Have you thought of returning?" Draco interrupted, glancing at Harry through the mirror's reflection.

Harry was startled by the sudden question. "What do you mean?"

"You should. I think it best if we spent some time apart while I sort the estate," Draco stated evenly after fixing a bit of his hair. "You should return to your home."

"Draco," Harry breathed, suddenly finding it very difficult to catch his breath. "I want to stay."

Draco turned towards him, face removed of any emotion. "I think it best if we parted for a while."

Harry swallowed around the lump growing in his throat. "Why?"

"I need time to myself," Draco responded coolly. "You should return home while I am away at the funeral."

Harry's heart clenched. The sudden feeling of dizziness coming over him as he sorted through his thoughts. "You mean, you want me to go?"

"You never intended to return here," Draco offered simply. "It was my selfish desire that brought you here. I think it is for the best that you return to your life over there."

Harry wanted to shout, wanted to scream at Draco that it wasn't like that. He had come of his own free will. He wanted to stay and support Draco. The sudden rejection was starting to make his chest burn with heat. His stomach tightened as he fought back tears.

"Do you really want me to go?" Harry stared at Draco.

"Yes," Draco stated firmly.

Harry's heart dropped, and his hands began to tremble as he watched Draco. The other wizard remained expressionless, betraying nothing. Harry had promised to stay beside Draco; however, he could never force himself on the other wizard either. If Draco didn't want him here, then he shouldn't push to stay.

Harry's voice trembled as he asked once more: "Is that really what you want?"

Draco's face stiffened. Jaw working, Draco replied, "Yes."

Nodding and swallowing around the burning in his throat and chest, Harry nodded and left the room. He gathered his things, leaving nothing, and returned to Ireland.

It had been a little over four weeks since his return. Harry had barely slept, had no appetite, and had very little energy to converse with Dakin. His large friend was starting to worry, coming at all hours to check on him.

Draco hadn't answered any phone calls or any owls that Harry sent. It was clear that Draco meant to sever their connection; and as that reality hit, so did the despair. Harry sat on his sofa, focusing on a singular spot on his wall.

He was startled by the sudden pounding at his door. Dakin stormed inside, eyes glaring into Harry's.

"Alright. That's enough," the older wizard said, helping Harry out of his seat and pushing him towards his bedroom. "Get dressed. We're going out."

"Dakin—"

"No excuses. I'm bloody tired of all this moping," Dakin growled, deciding that if Harry didn't dress, he would dress him instead. He yanked Harry's shirt up and over his head, then set to his trousers before Harry finally reacted.

"Hey!" Harry yelped, attempting to pull away.

"Take off your bloody trousers!" Dakin growled, yanking at Harry's trousers as if the very sight of them offended him. "You are too bloody skinny already! How is it that you are even _skinnier_ than before? This is bloody ridiculous!" Dakin continued to curse as he successfully dropped Harry's trousers despite him fighting it.

"Dakin! S-stop!" Harry cried as the other wizard lifted him bodily, slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and proceeded into the bedroom to choose a clean outfit.

Cursing when there were none, Dakin pulled the wand from his jacket and cleaned a pair of clothes. "Making me do magic…" the bulky wizard grumbled angrily before throwing Harry onto the bed and tossing the clothes at him. "Dress. Now. If you don't, then I will do it for you."

"Okay!" Harry stated quickly before pulling on his clean shirt and trousers. "Where are you taking me?"

"Out," the other wizard clipped angrily. "Come on. Hurry up."

Harry grumbled before finishing the zip and following Dakin out of the house to the older wizard's beaten down truck. "How about we take my car?"

"No," Dakin responded curtly before forcing Harry into the passenger side of the car. "Buckle up, Harry. It's a long ride."

"Wait, wha—" he was cut off by Dakin peeling out, car jerking right to left before straightening.

"I warned that bastard too," Dakin continued to grumble to himself. "What does he do? He just drops you like some sort of toy he's lost interest in."

"He didn't," Harry argued, but Dakin ignored him.

"Then it's up to Dakin to pick up the bloody pieces," the other wizard continued with a ruthless laugh. "How bloody lovely."

"His mum died. People do this when they grieve," Harry continued to argue against his seething friend's words. Desperately trying to convince Dakin—along with himself.

"I didn't!" Dakin barked. "I wanted you there when dad died. I still want you even when I know it's pointless. I'm just as bloody pathetic as you are right now."

"Hey!"

"Well you are," Dakin said, finally grinning. "You haven't heard from him in over a month—the bloody bastard—and you've been moping around just as long. It's enough, Harry."

"I…" Harry couldn't exactly argue with what Dakin was saying. However, he truly believed that Draco would come around. Sooner or later, Draco would come back to him. He hoped that it was sooner, however. "Look, everyone handles death differently. I know that he'll come round once he's dealt with his grief."

"What if he never does? Are you planning to wait around for that selfish prissy boy bastard?!"

"Yes," Harry stated simply. "This is the first time I've been in love, Dakin." Dakin stiffened at Harry's proclamation. "True love doesn't simply fade away with a month of no contact. Draco never said that it was over between us. He wanted time apart—"

"Which is bloke code for 'let's end this,'" Dakin interjected hotly.

"Not necessarily," Harry refuted. "If he wanted to end it, he would have said so. I truly believe he'll come back."

"If you believed that, you wouldn't be close to crying while saying it," Dakin pointed out with a stern face. "This is pointless. We'll see what that bloody bastard does; but for now, you and I are going to have some fun."

Harry sighed, pressing his forehead to the glass of the window. He didn't want to have fun, but he knew that Dakin was just trying to get him out of the funk he was in. Deciding that arguing with Dakin was hardly productive, he simply watched as the world passed by.

He wondered absently how Draco was doing. He hoped that he was eating and sleeping at least now that he didn't have to worry about Harry watching him. Maybe with Harry there, Draco felt he couldn't grieve properly.

The heat and burn was back in his throat as he fought the quickly collecting tears. He wouldn't cry. Draco hadn't ended things. Harry wanted to trust that Draco would eventually come back to him.

Harry awoke the next morning cradled in Dakin's arms after a long night of drinking with new and old friends. Pushing up and away from Dakin, Harry crawled over to his jacket and retrieved his phone to check the hour.

Twenty missed calls. From who? Harry checked his history and saw that Draco had been attempting to call him all night. His hand shook as he stood up, precariously swaying as he did. He pressed the redial and called Draco, shaking tremendously as he did.

"Took you long enough," the deep voice growled through the phone.

Harry's voice shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear. "It's been a while," Harry said with a cracking voice. The night's activities making it hard to talk. "I…I didn't expect to hear from you."

"Where are you?"

"Huh?"

"You were not at your home or the shop," Draco explained in exasperation.

Harry cursed under his breath. Of course. The one night Dakin forces him to go out. "I was out."

"Seems that you have been doing well without me," Draco stated bitterly.

Harry shook his head but regretted it as it nearly caved in to do so. "No, I—"

"Do not bother yourself to explain," Draco interjected hotly. "Where are you now?"

Harry looked around. He didn't know actually. They drove around with friends all night to different pubs, and he wasn't even sure where Dakin had taken him. "Uh, not sure, actually."

Draco groaned in frustration. "Then who are you with?"

"Dakin."

Draco laughed mirthlessly. "Of course you would be with the troll. Why did I even bother asking…"

"Draco," Harry started. "You hadn't contacted me in over a month…"

"I was sorting through some things," Draco retorted angrily. "I do not want to say this to you over the phone. I will wait until you return. Wake up that bloody troll and come home." The call was cut off, leaving Harry oddly mixed up inside.

After pocketing his mobile, Harry woke up Dakin to explain why they needed to leave. They set off shortly after—Dakin grumbling the entire way.

TBC…

Lots of drama in this chapter. I toyed with whether or not to kill of Draco's mother (I hate killing characters) but ultimately, this seemed the right course for the story. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Until next time!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry about the late chapter. I've been searching for a house, so I haven't had time to write due to my busy schedule. Hopefully it was well worth the wait for most of you.

 _Chapter Eleven: Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder_

Harry froze as soon as he saw Draco Malfoy standing at his door, propped against the side of it as if he had been casually waiting for Harry's return for some time now.

"I can come with you," Dakin offered as Harry's hand hesitated on the handle of his door.

"No," he said while breathing deeply. "I have to do this alone. Go on. Thanks for last night."

"Ring me when you are done," Dakin urged as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "If he does anything to you, I want to know about it."

Harry glanced at his friend gently. "Thanks, but he won't." Resolving his momentary hesitation, Harry got out of the car and headed towards Draco. Their eyes met as Dakin drove away, and Harry's heart stopped.

Draco looked much paler than he had before. His body, though not any less muscular, looked a bit thinner. The other wizard looked as though he hadn't slept in the entire month they were separated.

Harry breathed in deeply again. "Come on in then." He unlocked the door and led Draco inside. The other wizard followed until they were both quietly and nervously inside the house. Harry started for the kitchen, "I'll make some tea…"

"Harry," the other wizard whispered as Harry was suddenly drawn backwards into an embrace. Draco pressed his face into Harry's dark locks and breathed him in. This action caused Harry's body to stiffen.

"Draco," he gasped when the other wizard turned him around at a speed that made his vision shift and sway dizzily. "Why haven't you rang me or wrote until now? I…was worried."

"Harry," the other wizard who made Harry's heart and pulse race at dizzying speeds regarded him with a gentle expression. "I love you," Draco announced, causing Harry's face to fall into confusion and then into recognition.

"What—"

"I love you," the other wizard stated firmly. "I needed the month to sort through the Malfoy estate. With my mother gone, I was sole benefactor to the grounds and fortune, but I refuse to live without you. A month…it was far too long."

Harry could barely believe his ears. He questioned Draco with his gaze.

"I will not deny that in the beginning, I was figuring that perhaps our relationship was best left separated; but as the weeks drew on, it became clear that I would not be able to live on happily if you were not by my side," Draco explained with eyes that glimmered at Harry with a month's worth of emotion. "I love you. I have come to ask—no, rather—to implore you to be with me. To live with me from this day forward."

Harry felt his face become hot, and his eyes stinging with tears. "You love me?"

"Yes," Draco said finitely.

"And you want to stay with me, here?"

Draco smiled for the first time in nearly two months, nodding. "Yes. I will no longer keep occupation with the Ministry. I will continue in the potion's field, but it will be done from here, should you agree."

Harry gasped, finally understanding what Draco was insinuating.

"Will you have me, Harry?"

Harry knew that could be no other answer. "Yes," he nodded as he whispered the answer chiming like a clock in his heart. "Yes," he said a bit more firmly. He was pulled forward into a kiss that melted away all his sadness of the past month. "I love you too," he said the words that had been in his heart for some time now. They shuddered out of him like a great wind.

Draco lifted him, wrapping Harry up against himself, and continued to taste his mouth as if a man left thirsty for far too long. They were moving, groaning, undulating, and grasping at each other in a flurry of movement. Harry was stripped nearly bare before thrown onto the bed. His mouth felt lonely but only for a moment as Draco immediately rid himself of his clothes.

Harry skimmed his hands over the pale flesh before him, determining if this was truly a dream that Draco was here. He traveled every dip and protrusion of flesh with the pads of his fingers, deriving short pants and groans from his lover as he did.

His wrists were captured and then pinned above his head, held there by one of Draco's hands as his body was pressed almost impossibly into the mattress. A mouth claimed his in another hot, forceful kiss that had him swaying even though he was lying down.

"Harry," Draco breathed against his lips before nibbling down the line of his chin to the column of his neck. His collarbone was licked and nibbled, small sparks of pleasure bursting beneath the touch before Malfoy's mouth found a sensitive nipple. Sucking it into his mouth, he teased it expertly with his wet, hot tongue and teeth, causing a steady stream of curses and moans to spill from Harry's mouth.

"Merlin, you are beautiful," the blonde wizard panted, licking a line from one nipple to the other and then slowly down the small dip towards his navel.

Harry was having trouble comprehending much more than the onset of pleasure now curling through his body, burning very every patch of skin that Draco's mouth, tongue, and teeth touched. His legs quaked as Draco slid between them, slipping a hand between his open legs to begin preparing Harry for their coupling.

Harry trembled both with insurmountable pleasure and anticipation. He had spent an entire month worrying that this would never happen again. The very fact that it was made his heart and chest fill with warmth—near explosion.

Draco pressed into him, thrusting his throbbing prick with one swift motion fully into Harry. Crying out in surprise, Harry's hands immediately clutched at Malfoy's strained shoulders. Their movements became crazed as Draco thrust with abandon into Harry. Harry found his own body responding by jerking down hard onto the length buried inside of him. He arched away from the pleasure, painting his body against Draco's, and continued to thrust downwards in an effort to pleasure himself through the deep penetration.

It was long minutes of groaning, thrusting, and fucking that all led to a simultaneous conclusion. Draco stiffened against Harry while Harry's head shot back angling towards the bed, coming in hot spurts between their pressed bodies.

Harry's eyes fluttered open, recognizing first that he was in his bedroom; and then, that he was cradled on top of Draco, securely within the wizard's arms. His body throbbed as he attempted to move. It felt like Draco had still been lodged up his backside, causing him to hiss in displeasure.

Draco's eyes shot open before he was glancing down at him. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, grunting a bit more as he attempted once more to pull away. "Just…you know."

"Oh," Draco said with understanding before gently helping Harry up and then retrieving a potion from his luggage. "Here," the other wizard offered.

Harry swallowed the bitter contents and sighed instantly when they immediately took effect. "Thanks."

Draco watched him for long moments before leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss. "You are much skinnier than when I last saw you," the Slytherin commented, eyes trailing over Harry's naked form and causing a stir in his nether regions.

Harry felt the heat immediately creeping into his cheeks. "I wonder whose fault that is…"

Draco pulled Harry towards him roughly, pressing another kiss to his lips—this one much more insistent than the last. Fingers traveled over his torso, lazily drawing patterns at first before purposefully tweaking his nipple.

Harry pulled away with a gasp. "Bloody hell!" he cried out, rubbing his injured nipple.

"Smart mouth you have there, Potter."

"Oh, shut it," Harry grumbled before falling back onto the bed. "I'm still angry with you. You were a right bastard."

"I was," the other wizard agreed before taking Harry back into his arms. "I thought I was prepared for my mother to pass on. It had been a possibility should I have not found the book before it was revealed that it would serve no purpose in the end."

Draco breathed in deeply, pressing a small kiss to Harry's tangled locks. "I thought, perhaps, it was best if I let you return home while I sorted out both the estate and my feelings. I even considered possibly letting you go since I was not prepared to leave the wizarding world much like you would need me to. However, as time went on, I was unable to think of little else but you, Harry."

Harry's face flushed deeper still. "That is quite…the predicament."

"Yes," Draco mused with a soft chuckle. "Here I was, mother gone, estate in need of desperate attention, and all I could possibly think of was you and how you must be doing. Would you be thriving? Would you be as desperate for me as I was for you? Soon, I was unable to keep away. I had to come for you. There are still things in which I must do in London, but for now, my place is here."

"So you really plan to stay with me in the muggle world?"

"In a way," Draco stated as his arms tightened. "Although, I am not so willing to disregard my magic as you are. It is my hope that in the future, there is a joining of the two. I wish to bond myself to you in both worlds, Harry."

Harry's head jerked up. "Bond?"

"Yes," Draco said, slightly perplexed by Harry's surprise. "Is that not what two wizards in love do, Harry?"

"I mean, yeah, but I thought…later," Harry stated, half-whispering the end word. "I just thought…it hadn't been long since we started this relationship, you wouldn't want to rush it."

"Harry," Draco stated as if he was speaking with a child. "You do realize that we have known each other for many, many years. The status of our relationship hardly changes that truth. There is nothing rushed about my wanting to bond with you. While it may seem like a simple formality, it is my intention to lay claim to you as soon as possible."

"Lay claim…" Harry repeated with a raised brow.

"You have many admirers," Draco responded evenly. "I must do absolutely anything necessary to see to it that they are aware there is no room for them to intervene."

Harry laughed heartily. "I think you are rather mad for thinking so."

"Call it what you will," Draco returned dismissively.

"Also," Harry stated a bit bemused by the overall direction of their conversation. "I think this is the most forthcoming you've been since we started our relationship."

"Is that so?" Draco retorted with a small grin. "That statement deserves punishment…"

"Punish—" Harry started before his mouth was overwhelmed by Draco's in a punishing kiss that stole every bit of breath or fight in him.

"So," Dakin growled, arms crossed tightly against his torso and eyes burning holes into Draco from his spot near the doorway. "What the bloody hell do you have to say for yourself, prissy boy?"

Draco sneered at him but did not respond.

"Really…" Harry groaned. "I explained it all to you," Harry stated clearly towards Dakin. "Draco will be living with me from today onwards. I think it best if you two worked out this rivalry you have between you."

"He broke your heart, sent you away, and now that he's back I have to somehow forgive it all as if it never occurred? Unlikely." Dakin's body tightened with anger. "I still think prissy boy is a bloody prick. You could easily do better."

"Dakin," Harry warned. "I care for you deeply. I had hoped you would understand that I would not forgive Draco lightly if I didn't think he was being sincere."

"Or manipulative…" Dakin interjected with a scowl.

"I may be exceedingly more intelligent than you, troll, but even I could not manipulate Harry should I have attempted to. And trust, if I had it my way, he would no longer speak with trolls," Draco stated coolly.

Harry's hands fisted, fingernails eating into the palms of his hands. "This is bloody pointless."

"Agreed," the other two wizards said simultaneously, leaving an awkward air to hang between them.

Harry's lips twitched. "So you can agree it seems…"

Draco breathed out in frustration. "Harry, I think it best if we leave the troll to the shop and finished what we discussed earlier this morning."

What they had discussed was hardly something Harry wanted to get into now. Draco had attempted to convince Harry to move into a large home farther away from Sligo—more specifically, from Dakin. It had been a long battle between hard kisses, rough touches, and sudden bouts of sex.

"And what did you two discuss?" Dakin cut in with a sharp glare.

"Simply that—"

"Nothing," Harry interjected with a heated glare at Draco. The Slytherin merely shrugged and began to inspect his nails. "It hardly matters. This is the way it will be whether or not you support it, Dakin. I care for you and need your understanding."

Dakin grunted with derision but nodded nonetheless. He gave one last pointed glare at Draco before leaving the store and slamming the door behind him. Harry's body jolted with the loud banging before he looked over towards Draco who seemed increasingly more interested in his nails.

"Well? Must you be a right bastard to him even after you promised me you would try to treat him with respect?!" Harry's hands landed on his hips as he intensified his glare at his nonchalant lover.

"That was under the pretense that you would seriously consider _my_ suggestion," Draco argued, eyes finally glancing up at Harry.

"I can't move," Harry retorted before sinking down into his chair. "That house has been my home for six years."

"I need more space, Harry. If I am to conduct my business, I will need sufficient space to do so. Since you proclaim there is no using of magic to do so on the current home you live, I must implore you to consider another residence," Draco stated simply while regarding Harry with a small grin.

"And I said—"

"That you could not live too far from your shop or that…troll," Draco supplied with a slightly bitter tone. "I know. You have stated as such repeatedly and never truly considered my suggestion. Thus, I deem it unjust to consider _your_ suggestion that I treat that troll with any inkling of respect."

Harry groaned in defeat. Draco was bloody stubborn; although, so was Harry. It always seemed as if he was compromising when it came to Draco. Although, he did agree that if Draco was to continue brewing, his house would not have sufficient room for it.

"Fine," he finally breathed. "Not too far though. We'll look just outside of town," he stated judiciously. "I refuse to move too far from the shop but agree that you will need a larger home to conduct your business especially if we should reintegrate ourselves into the Wizarding World."

Draco's eyes widened momentarily. "You mean…are you considering returning to the Wizarding World?" Draco didn't seem quite convinced.

Harry elaborated. "Not at this moment. There is still some things in which I would like to do before I resurface, but yes, I will eventually."

"Harry," the other wizard looked astonished.

Harry didn't blame him. He had never truly believed he would ever return, but after the strides that Draco had considered making to be with him, it was only fair that he did the same. Besides, he missed everyone: the Weasleys, Hermione, his school compatriots. And he especially missed the conveniences of magic.

It was time to return. Well, almost time. Harry had determined that he would need to sign over the rights to the shop as a final act towards moving forward with his life. He would give Dakin the shop; but first, he wanted to speak with those that had made it possible for him to hide away the last six years.

"I will be making an unannounced trip to the Burrow," Harry announced with a small smile.

Draco's face dropped. "No."

"And you'll be coming with me," Harry added with a widening smile.

Draco's face paled. "No," he reaffirmed.

Harry pressed a small kiss to the pale Slytherin. "Oh, come off it. They'll be happy to see you."

"I doubt that very seriously," Draco growled. "This is rather cruel and unusual punishment, Harry."

"Well, they are my family," Harry stated with a soft chuckle. "If you intend to be bonded to me, you'll have to come to know them. Maybe even like them."

Draco huffed with contempt. "Hardly. Is it not enough that I bond with you and face the many adoring fans that will surely strike me down where I stand? Is that not enough punishment?"

Harry was laughing now. "Isn't it the same for me?" Draco's eyebrow rose with inquiry. "You are quite popular yourself, aren't you?"

"I cannot disagree that my alarmingly sought after physique and attractive features have a substantial fan base, but I hardly compare to the savior."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You forgot your humble modesty."

Draco smirked with a slight nod. "Mustn't forget that, should we?"

Harry huffed a laugh before standing and turning the closed shop sign. "Guess we should get packed so we can leave. I'll ring Dakin later to tend to the shop for a few days."

"I would much rather waiting a week or so—"

"We will leave tomorrow morning," Harry cut in sharply. "No arguments."

Draco crossed his arms tightly against his chest and sneered at Harry as he started his closing duties.

Harry finished packing his essentials for their small visit. He couldn't help the anticipation that he felt, and even the slight hesitation at not announcing that he was coming—and especially, with Draco.

However, if Draco truly wanted to be bonded in their future, it was vital that his adoptive family give their blessing. It would be quite an interesting undertaking to convince them, but Harry knew that if he expressed just the sheer happiness and love he felt by being with Draco, he was surely to convince them.

Draco had been moping about all evening, mumbling about redheaded nightmares. It was especially apparent that his lover was apprehensive about reconnecting with Ron and Hermione who were now the parents of three small redheaded children. He sneered with disgust when Harry had mentioned there was a chance that he could meet little Ronald Jr, Eloise, and/or Margaret Weasley.

Not surprisingly, Draco disliked children with a passion—even going as far as to call them little monsters that syphoned the happiness and wealth of their parents. Harry decided it best not to mention his love for them. Wizards—well, men in general—were unable to have children without considerable intervention, so the future of having children seemed slim at best for them.

Harry finally fell onto the bed with a deep sigh and lined himself alongside Draco who was reading one of the novels he had suggested earlier that day.

"Must you stare at me like that," Draco stated irritably but set his novel down despite it.

Harry smiled slightly to himself, drawing the hem of Draco's shirt slightly upwards to reveal a sliver of pale, porcelain skin. His fingers traced the small rises and falls of abdominal muscles before sneaking beneath the cover of material to discover the rest of perfectly smooth flesh.

Draco's breathing hitched before a hand clasped over Harry's and stalled his progress. Harry's eyes jerked upwards. "What? Can't I touch you?"

Draco's forehead drew downwards. "After forcing me against my will to join you on your visit to the Weasleys? No." The hand that was over his own tightened before pulling at his arm and removing it.

Harry sat up sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Fine then. I'll go sleep on the sofa," he said in defeat before throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He was about to get up when an arm wound around his waist and pulled him roughly backwards into a hard, unyielding form. Harry's breath whooshed out of him before that arm secured him tightly.

"I did not say you could leave," Draco growled hotly into his ears. "Only that you could not touch."

Harry's body was already responding adversely. His breathing had shallowed, panting slightly to the sudden spark of excitement at the intense power Draco's words exuded. It was as if the dominate tone had subjugated his body almost instantly to the Slytherin.

One arm secured him tightly against Draco while the other trailed over his waist, teasing the rim of his trousers almost absently. Harry's eyes fluttered shut when the hand finally touched him where he was beginning to harden.

"Your body is rather indecent, do you not think, Harry?" Harry groaned as these words were accentuated with Draco's hand palming him roughly through the thin material of his trousers. "What would others think should they witness such indecency, I wonder?"

Harry moaned, head falling backwards. The pleasure washing over him by the steady, sure movements of Draco's hand was enough to make his anger from earlier dissolve into pure, adulterated need. His hips jerked upwards as Draco's hand grasped his fully hard prick. Merlin, it felt good.

Lips tasted the skin that was exposed slightly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sucking at it powerfully and sparking hot, electric pleasure to wash through him. The sting was merely background to the hard, powerful strokes of Draco's slightly calloused hand.

Biting his lip, Harry attempted to hold back his moans. A thumb swiped expertly over Harry's wet tip, causing his body to jerk into the action and a shudder to wrack his form.

"What do you want, Harry?" Draco questioned while nibbling the shell of Harry's ear. "What do you want me to do to you?"

Harry's breathing was becoming more labored as his pleasure escalated with each sure stroke of Draco's hand and sultry whisper of his deep, penetrating voice. "I want you," he rasped, hips thrusting when Draco's hand stalled. "Please."

"How do you want me?" Draco inquired hotly, hand working Harry out of his trousers which pooled at his ankles now. His shirt was pulled upwards, exposing a heaving, straining chest that glistened with the beginnings of perspiration. "What do you want me to do to you?"

Harry's mouth was unbelievably dry, head gone hazy, and eyes unfocused. Pleasure had caused his brain to slow as he attempted to comprehend the question. Draco pushed Harry onto his back and hovered over him with a penetrating gaze.

"Answer me, Harry."

"I want you," Harry repeated, brain finally starting to function a bit more. His body trembled with anticipation.

"How," Draco demanded, knee shifting Harry's legs apart as he continued to hover over him.

"Inside me," Harry finally managed breathless.

"Very good," Draco stated with a small, appreciative smirk before pressing those enticing lips against Harry's and deriving short gasps and moans of relief.

Hands spread his legs apart, opening him to Draco as fingers penetrated inside him without hesitation. Pleasure coiled through him, curling his fingers and toes as the familiar heat and movement Draco's touch prepared him. It was only moments before Draco replaced his fingers with his own throbbing need, penetrating Harry quickly and deeply in a singular movement.

Harry cried out at the sudden explosion of pleasure. Draco had immediately pressed into his prostate, causing a wash of heat to flood through Harry.

"Gods!" he cried when Draco hit his prostate again. This time, the pleasure was nearly painful.

The rhythm was crazed right from the start. Their bodies jolted against each other in sharp, punishing movements. His legs had gone numb, carried in the air by Draco's straining biceps. Angular hips slammed into him again and again, causing Harry's cries to become strangled and stuttered.

Anchoring himself against the powerful pleasure, Harry grasped at the sheets beneath with a vice-like hold. Harry's body shuddered and ricochet off of Draco's in hard, unyielding thrusts. As if in slow motion, Harry watched with abated interest, taking in every strain of muscle; every grimace and grunt Draco gave way to; every fixed gaze of those steel-blue eyes that watched him.

When they finally came, it was so hard and powerful that Harry nearly lost consciousness. His body shuddered and clamped as wave after wave of pleasure shot through him, coating his body in his own seed.

Sinking down into the bed, Harry could barely move let alone speak as Draco immediately collapsed on top of him. They breathed against each other, wet and sticky with their lovemaking, and hardly caring. It was long minutes before Draco managed to crawl to the bedside and magic away any physical evidence of their coupling.

Harry, however, was hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness with a lazy smile. Pleasure had made his brain completely uselessly. He could only yawn and smile appreciatively as Draco pulled him into a comfortable embrace and turn out the lights. Forgetting every little sadness or disappointment of their day, Harry succumbed to sleep.

TBC…

Okay guys. I apologize again for the late chapter. I will be unfortunately busy the next few weeks due to house hunting, so forgive me. I will attempt to update as quickly as possible. Until next chapter!


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